#theme: luces

[triple-pupil]

She's on her pilgrimage.

[halucynator]

have a rather halloween-y fic scheduled for tomorrow at 00:00 (GMT)

watch out <333

[goinggoats]

I feel like it's very healthy for teens to enjoy at least one "what if demons were just misunderstood cool guys with powers" series

[bronzeyslcve]

Let Me Take Care Of You: Lucy Bronze

Paring: Lucy Bronze x Fem Reader

Theme: smut/fluff

Summary: you’re on your period and just need a little help to take away the pain of your cramps and Lucy offers to do that it a new way…

Warnings: smut, period sex, minors dni, soft dom lucy, sub reader, fingering, oral sex, strap-on use, praise, use of pet names, use of y/n, aftercare, lucy being gentle <3

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It was that time of the month. You hated it. Throughly despised it. You hated the backaches, the headaches, the bloating, painful boobs and the cramps. The cramps were the worst part. Some days you couldn’t even move due to how awful they were. And that’s the current predicament you find yourself in. Curled up in bed, hot water bottle resting on your abdomen, waiting for Lucy to get home after training so you can cuddle up to her, she should be home soon.

It felt like hours until you heard the front door to your apartment unlock and you couldn’t be happier. Normally, you would get up and go greet her but today you don’t and instantly she knows somethings up, that’s confirmed when she walks into your bedroom.

“Oh love,” she sighs as she sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, her hand rubbing your back. ��You on your period baby?”

You nod softly, loving the feeling of her hand on your back. It feels so warm. So perfect. “Yeah, it hurts really bad Luce.”

Lucy gently presses her lips to your forehead, giving you a small kiss as her hand continues to rub up and down your back, trying to soothe you as much as she can.

“I know sweetheart, I know it does. You taken any pain meds to help?” she asks, voice full of concern.

“Yeah, took some paracetamol a couple of hours ago. It’s not helped,” you whine as you move from your curled up position and into Lucy’s arms.

Lucy smiles and holds you against her, her chin gently resting on your head as she thinks of ways to help you, one comes to her mind, she’d read about it in an article online recently but she wasn’t sure if you’d go for it. She knew that she would if she was in your position, but she completely understands if you wouldn’t.

“Oh my poor baby. Look I might know something that could help, I read about it online,”

“Really? What’s that Luce?”

You pull your head off of her chest to look at her properly, her hair is slightly wet from her post training session shower, her nose has a slightly red tinge to it due to the cold weather and she’s looking at you with so much love and concern that look makes your heart melt.

“Well I read that experiencing an orgasm, can help to take your pretty little mind off of those awful cramps. Now you don’t have to say yes but it’s an idea.”

Naturally, your eyebrows raise at her suggestion. You’ve heard about how period sex could potentially help with cramps but you never believed it, so therefore never gave it a second thought. Yet now Lucy’s saying it, you can’t help but feel intrigued. If she’s willing to do it and it really is going to help, then why not?

“You’d really do that? For me?” you ask, your voice in more of a whisper which makes her laugh a little bit.

“Course pretty girl. I’ll do anything for you. Just lie back and let me take care of you.”

You nod at her words which causes her to smile and then she ever so gently presses her lips to yours, kissing you as softly and as lovingly as possible.

She gets you laid down under her on the bed, her lips still pressed against yours, tongue ever so gently swiping over them. Hands prying at the hot water bottle resting under your top, tossing it somewhere in the room.

A soft moan slips from your mouth and into hers, letting your tongues intertwine, Lucy obviously having control. As the pair of you continue to make out, you feel something else alongside the pain bubble in your gut. Arousal.

Lucy breaks the kiss to press hot open-mouthed kisses to the skin of your neck as her hands work on pulling up your top, still being oh so gentle with you, acting as if you could break at any given second.

“Can I take this off pretty girl?” she asks as she pushes your top up even more, teeth gently nipping at your earlobe.

“Mhm, take it off Luce.”

That’s all she needed to hear. She gently pecks your lips before slowly lifting your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. Her eyes rake over your exposed top half and just like always, her mouth practically waters.

“You’re so beautiful darling, so so pretty,” she hums as she gently kisses over your boobs, her eyes on yours the entire time, checking for any discomfort as she full well knows they can be painful when you’re on your period.

“You really know how to make me blush, don’t you?” you ask as due to her compliment your cheeks to go a touch pink. Once her lips start kissing your boobs you let out a soft whimper.

“I do pretty girl, I do. That feel good, not hurting?”

You shake your head. “No Luce, feels so good.”

The defender lets out a hum of approval before ever so gently swirling her tongue around your left nipple, her fingers gently tugging at your right, causing you to moan softly.

The pain is still there, you can feel it tingling at your insides, mixing with arousal but what your girlfriend is doing is a good distraction from said pain.

Lucy switches up her actions, now swirling her tongue around your right nipple, gently tugging at your left one as her other hand sneaks underneath the joggers that you are wearing. Just resting on your hip.

After a few minutes, she pulls away and sits on her heels in between your legs, looking at you with the most loving expression on her face.

“Do you want me to get a towel, love?”

“Please, don’t wanna get the sheets all messy.”

A small, soft laugh slips from her throat but she nods in agreement, understanding completely. Reluctantly, she gets off of the bed and goes into the en suite to grab a couple of fluffy towels.

Whilst waiting for her to come back, you play with the drawstrings on your joggers, trying to keep your mind off of the pain.

After a minute or so she returns with two towels in her hand and that same loving expression of her face. “Hips up for me pretty girl, need to make sure these are all secure under you.”

Obviously, you oblige. It hurts just a touch, a soft groan slipping past your lips as you buck up your hips, allowing your lover to slip the towels underneath you.

“There we go, good girl. Can I take your joggers off sweetheart?” Lucy questions, her lips pressing gentle kisses over your stomach which make your heart flutter.

“Yeah, yeah you can take them off,” you exclaim as you lower your hips back down, bitting back a moan as she calls you a ‘good girl.’

“Alright pretty girl, just relax for me,” she smiles as she ever so gently tugs them down, folding them neatly and then sitting them on the bedside table.

You watch her fold up them up with a smile on your face, once she’s done, you reach out to tug at the hem of her shirt. The brunette chuckles and gets your message quickly, she pulls her training shirt off and then her sports bra quickly follows, them being tossed somewhere in your bedroom.

“There. That what you wanted pretty girl?”

“Mhm, you’re so gorgeous,” you rasp as you reach out to run your hands over her abs as her lips find your neck and she starts sucking and kissing, leaving her marks as gently as humanly possible.

“I love you so much baby, you’re so perfect,” your lover muttered against your neck as her hand ever so gently cups your core over your underwear.

“Luce,” you whine, needing her, getting incredibly desperate for her. Desperate for her to take the pain of your cramps away. “I love you too,” you add softly.

Lucy immediately catches on to what you want and as she continues to gently mark your neck, her fingers start to gently play with the waistband of your knickers.

“Take them off, please.”

That’s immediately what she does. Once they’re off, she throws them in the direction of the laundry basket and when her heads turned for the briefest second, the reality of the situation kicks in and you snap your legs shut. Embarrassment clouding your body.

When Lucy realises what you’ve done, a small ‘tut’ leaves her lips, her hands gently tugging your legs apart once more.

“No, we’re not having any of that pretty girl. You’re absolutely gorgeous, period or no period. I love you, okay. I just want to take care of my girl.”

Her words make your heart melt in your chest, and due to your hormones being all shot a couple of small tears trickle down your face.

“What on earth did I do to deserve you, Luce?”

Lucy’s heart softens as she leans up to peck your forehead, the tip of your nose and then your lips, a soft smile on her face.

“You just existed, pretty girl.”

At that, you cry even more. They’re happy tears though. Momentarily, the pain in your abdomen is forgotten as you just focus on her. On the woman you love with all of your heart.

“I love you so much,”

“And I love you more. Please, let me take care of you now, yeah?”

You just nod softly as you feel her cup your cheeks, thumbs gently wiping away your tears before once more her lips find yours.

The defender kisses you for a few seconds, then trails her kisses lower, down your throat, your chest, your stomach, then your thighs. She gently sucks more marks into the flesh of your inner thighs, just inches from where you so desperately need her, but you let her do what she’s got to do.

“So good for me pretty girl. Need you to relax for me, need to take your tampon out. Or do you want to do it?” she asks softly, voice containing absolutely no judgement and you know she’ll be more than happy to do it for you.

After a few seconds of considering it, you decide you’ll just let her do it, she doesn’t mind after all.

“If you don’t mind Luce, you can do it.”

She nods and smiles as she ever so gently pulls it out, not looking at it before getting it up to go flush it. When she’s back, her lips immediately are back on your inner thighs, continuing to gently mark them: which causes soft whimpers to leave your throat.

“Making such pretty noises for me, my good girl,” your lover mumbles against your flesh as her lips trail from your inner thigh to your core.

That causes you to panic ever so slightly and so you gently grab at her hair to get her attention.

“Y/n what’s wrong? Does it hurt?” she asks, getting worried she hurt you, hence her using your first name, an indication she wants to to be completely honest with her.

“No Luce. No, don’t worry, you haven’t hurt me. It’s just, do you y’know, really wanna use your mouth? Don’t you find it grim?” you questioned a bit sheepishly and that makes Lucy let out a soft laugh and shake her head.

“No my love, I don’t. I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise would I, hm?”

“I suppose not.”

“Exactly pretty girl, just chill out for me. I promise you, I want to do this.”

When you visibly relax, she pecks your lips once more before her head dips back in between your thighs, lips pressing gentle kisses over your soaked pussy.

“Feels so good Luce,” you whimper as one hand tangles into your girlfriends hair. Your mind relaxing and forgetting that you’re on your period as the small amount of pleasure that you are receiving, starts to slowly heal the pain in your abdomen.

Your whimpers turn into moans when her lips wrap around your clit and she sucks softly, a finger gently swiping through your folds to tease at your entrance.

“Fuck…please,” you manage to get out in a moan as your hand softly tugs on her hair, the other one gripping onto the duvet.

As a reward, you feel one of Lucy’s fingers slip into your cunt, pumping in and out ever so gently, her being careful not to accidentally hurt you.

Your head finds itself being thrown back in pleasure from her actions, the pain continuing to ebb away albeit slowly but surely.

“Does that feel good pretty girl?” she husks as she pulls her mouth away for just a second, her finger still going, a red hue now adorning the lower part of her face.

“Mhm, s-so…good,” you pant as your eyes close, unable to stay open as her finger picks up the pace ever so slightly.

“Good girl, doing so well for me.”

Your lovers lips go back to sucking your clit, perfectly, whilst she teases another finger around your entrance. That causes your hips to buck up against her, making her smile against you and sink the second finger into you.

A moan of her name slips past your lips as you feel two of her fingers stretching you, now curling upwards, gently rubbing at your g-spot with every thrust. Lucy isn’t fast, nor is she rough. She is slow, passionate and gentle. Everything you currently need and you feel yourself getting oh so close to that edge, the pain of your cramps, practically non existent.

“Oh god, I’m close Luce, so close,” you whine, face contorting up in pleasure, hand tugging a little harsher at her hair - something to ground yourself with, clit spasming in her mouth, thighs shaking softly.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” she mumbles against your core before her lips go back to sucking your clit, fingers picking up their pace a tad, trying to push you over.

With a cry of her name, you come undone over her fingers, the pain, the pain now completely non existent. The pleasure having over come it. That article Lucy read was right after all.

“You’re amazing baby, so pretty when you come for me,” the right back rasps as she pulls her mouth away from you with a small kiss to your clit, her fingers working you down from your high. Once you’re back on earth and your eyes are open, she gently pulls them out and sucks her fingers clean, making sure you are watching her do it.

“Luce…you don’t have to,” you remark and she shakes her head. Signalling to you that it’s okay. That she wants to do it.

You just smile as you watch her, your hands once again reaching out to run along her abs, your mind still reeling from the incredible pleasure your girlfriend had given you.

“You taste so good pretty girl,” she hums after releasing her fingers with a wet pop, her lips then pressing against yours softly before she adds: “Do you think you can take one more? Can I use my strap sweetheart?”

Her words stir up primal desire in you once more and you nod as your fingers continue to just run along her abs gently. “Mhm, give me a just give me a moment.”

“Of course pretty girl, of course. I’ll get myself all sorted whilst you recover from round one,” she states with a cheeky smirk which has you letting out a soft laugh.

Your eyes are glued to her as she gets herself up to quickly wash her face in the bathroom, she doesn’t mind having your blood on her. It’s just another bodily fluid, it’s doing no harm, but she gets that you’ll probably be uncomfortable after a while. When she comes out of the bathroom, she takes off her shorts and soaking boxers. Lucy then grabs her harness from one of the nightstand drawers and after it’s secure, she grabs your favourite dildo and slots it into the front of the harness.

“Look at you, so beautiful and all mine,” she purrs as she nestles herself in between your thighs once more. Lips pressing gentle kisses all over your body, before her mouth ends up at your chest again, lips wrapping around and sucking softly at one of your nipples, fingers gently tugging the other.

“All yours, always,” you assure her through a moan, even though she knew that anyways. You’ve always been hers.

She smiles around your breast as she continues to suck at your nipple, fingers still playing with the other one as her other hand now just sits sprawled out over your abdomen.

It seems like hours go by until she releases your nipple and then turns her sucking to the other one, her fingers now tweaking the one that had just been in her warm mouth.

“Shit Luce, just like that,” you sigh in content as your fingers gently scratch down her back soothingly, knowing it’s something that she loves.

“And that, pretty girl, that feels amazing,” Lucy rasps as she pulls her mouth off of your chest and then once again, her lips find yours, kissing you gently.

A small chuckle slips from your throat at her admission, you knew she loved it when you scratched her back. Especially when she’s being rough with you. But tonight’s not the night for that. No, tonight you’ve got gentle Lucy. Your favourite version of your girlfriend.

“I love you Luce,” you exclaim as she rests her forehead against yours. One of her hands staying sprawled out on your abdomen, the other coming to grip the base of her strap to move it through your folds and coat it with your arousal, which makes you whimper softly.

“I love you more Y/n. You ready?”

Initially, you respond with a small nod and by wrapping your legs around her waist gently. Lucy however shakes her head, that same loving, soft smile on her lips.

“Words, pretty girl. Use your words,”

“I’m ready Luce, please,” you beg, even though you didn’t need to. You were always getting what you wanted tonight.

Once more, she presses her lips against yours as she ever so slowly, ever so gently, sinks her strap into your tight cunt. As she watches how it swallows the toy, she swears she can just come from the sight alone.

“That feel okay pretty girl, not hurting?” she asks, voice laced with concern as she bottoms out inside of you.

Usually, you could take her strap with ease, no problems. But today, you felt like you needed a breather once she was fully inside, due to just how sensitive you are. “A little, but it’s okay. Just give me a minute, then you can move.”

Lucy nods, understanding completely. She’s willing to wait as long as you want, as long as you need. She just wants to make you feel comfortable, loved and cared for. So, whilst waiting, she just presses her lips anywhere, leaving a trails of gentle kisses all over your body.

“That tickles,” you hum through a small giggle as you feel her press a kiss under your chin and she softly laughs at your reaction.

“Does it? I forgot you were ticklish under there baby,” she reply’s with a grin tugged onto her lips.

“Mhm, a little yeah. If you want, you can move now, I feel okay,”

“You a thousand percent sure, pretty girl? I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Luce, you could never hurt me. And yes, I’m sure, I’m okay.”

Lucy visibly relaxes at your reassurances and as she ever so gently starts to thrust in and out, her lips meet yours, kissing you lovingly: her mouth swallowing your moans.

Your hands start to gently scratch up and down her back again, her lips reluctantly leaving yours, due to the need for air. Once more, she rests her forehead against your forehead.

As she continuously thrusts into you, the base of the toy hits her clit, causing her to groan softly, even though her full attention is on your pleasure, not her own.

“That feel good pretty girl? Be honest with me,” the defender questions, needing to be constantly reassured that you are in fact enjoying what she’s doing.

“Luce, s-stop worrying. I’m fine. It feels s-so good,” you manage to get out in between moans and whimpers - your nails still gently scratching her back.

“I’m never going to stop worrying, my love. That also feels incredible,” she purrs, absolutely loving the feeling of your nails raking over her back.

Soft moans of her name slip past your lips as your head throws back and eyes squeeze shut, Lucy building you perfectly up to the edge, you’re still not there yet, but in a couple of minutes, you’d more than likely be shooting over it.

Your girlfriend continues with her gentle thrusts, the toy hitting that special spot every single time. She picks up the pace just a touch, however it’s still very, very slow, which you find to be perfect.

“You getting close yet pretty girl?”

“Y-yeah, getting so…so close Luce,” you pant between moans, your face now twisted up into sheer bliss.

“Good girl. Come when you’re ready baby.”

Your nails are now gently digging into her shoulders, holding onto her for dear life as you feel probably one of the most intense orgasms, you’d ever experienced start to slowly unravel.

As you come, her name leaves your lips in a silent scream and you swear that you can see stars behind your eyelids. Watching you come, shoots Lucy over the edge too, a rather loud groan slipping from her throat as she does so.

You remain out of it for quite a few minutes. You don’t notice Lucy ever so gently pull out, you don’t notice how she takes off the toy, wipes it down and then puts it back in the drawer. You also don’t notice how she disappears into the en suite for a few seconds to start running you a bath.

Finally, you notice her once more when she comes and lays down next to you, pulling you into her arms for a few moments.

“Hey pretty girl, you back yet?” she asks softly before pecking your forehead, proud of herself for giving you an orgasm so intense. Lucy knew for certain that the pain from your cramps is long gone and would be for a while.

“Think so, I love you,” you mutter as you snuggle into her, that causes her to let out a gentle laugh.

“I love you too y/n. C’mon, let’s get you in the bath,”

“Only if you join me, Luce,”

“Of course pretty girl, of course.”

Your girlfriend gets out of bed and then gently lifts you up and carries you into the bathroom. She flicks the taps off and then lowers you into the bath tub, which causes a soft groan to slip from your lips at the warmth from the water relaxing your body.

“That good baby? I’ll be back in a sec, just gonna get those towels in the laundry basket and light that candle you like,”

“Okay Luce, don’t be long.”

The right back gently pecks your lips before disappearing into the bedroom, quickly grabbing the towels that are laid out on the bed, throwing them into the laundry basket, knowing they’ll be washed tomorrow morning. Then, she grabs the lighter and lights your favourite candle that sits on the dressing table before wandering back into the bathroom.

A soft smile tugs on her lips at the sight of you just relaxing yourself in the bath and she slowly slips in behind you, gently pulling you against her, holding you tightly.

“You feeling better my love? No more cramps?” Lucy questions as she presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

“No, they’re all gone. Thank you, I love you so much Luce,”

“I love you more, let’s get you all cleaned up so I can give you cuddles.”

It takes a while for Lucy to ever so gently get you all clean, not that you mind of course. Her gentle touches are like heaven as are the small kisses she presses against your skin every so often. Once you were finally done in the bath, she wrapped you up in a towel and then sat you on the counter.

“There, all nice and clean. Let me go grab you some pyjamas, sweetheart,” she insists, leaving no room for argument. She will go and get your pyjamas and she will change you into them.

“Hm, fine. Can I wear one of your old jerseys? Pretty please,” you ask with a small whine, lips in a pout, pulling your puppy dog eyes and Lucy melts at your expression.

“You didn’t even need to ask pretty girl, of course,” she hums before her lips peck yours before she disappears into the bedroom, wearing nothing but her towel.

As you wait, you gently drum your fingers on your knee, feeling water droplets from your hair, trickle down your back.

When Lucy reappears, her wet hair is tied up into a bun and she’s now dressed in a pair of boxers and one of her sports bras. She has the clothes she’s picked out for you under her arm. One of her old England jerseys, a pair of knickers and a pair of shorts. She sets them down on the counter next to you, before opening one of the bathroom cabinets and then she sets a tampon down on top of your clothes.

“Let’s get you all dried and dressed, then we’re getting into bed and not moving for a week, yeah?”

That causes you to let out a small laugh as you shake your head in disbelief. “Luce, what about training and your match this weekend?”

“Hm, fuck it. I’m gonna be looking after my pretty girl all week.”

You know she’s joking, but you know that if you asked her she would say yes. That thought has done and always will warm your heart, even if you don’t act on it. Lucy would do absolutely anything for you and obviously, you’d do anything for her.

It takes a hot minute to get you all sorted for bed, but once you are, your girlfriend gently scoops you up into her arms again, as if you are the most precious thing on the planet and then sets you down in bed. You have your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as you snuggle into her, with absolutely no protest.

“Need anything pretty girl? You okay?” she asks softly as her lips press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“No, this is perfect,” you mutter sleepily as you match your breathing to the beating of her heartbeat which is slowly luring you to sleep.

“I’m glad baby. Is it hurting again?” she questions, for her own piece of mind, wanting to make sure that your cramps aren’t back and that her earlier actions have kept them at bay for a while.

“No, not hurting.”

Lucy lets out a little laugh, you sounded so sleepy, so groggy, to her it was adorable. She holds you even tighter against her as she notices you just fall asleep against her, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, one hand gently playing with your hair.

“Sleep well, pretty girl. I love you.”

[fiastomatocheek]

SNOOPY AND THE SUMMER GIRL

requested: yes | req: dad!luke request plsss. okay, so luke, reader and the other hughes brothers, taking their toddler onto the lake for the first time, and she gets scared when luke falls off while wakeboarding. and because she can't swim that well yet, everyone takes turns letting her sit on their shoulders. maybe also something cute with reader and luke while the boys take care of her??? love your work!!

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader

genre: fluff, family, slice of life, domestic.

warnings: none (unless extreme cuteness counts).

summary: every summer, the hughes family gathers at quinn’s lake house and this year is no different, except now lucy, your four-year-old daughter with luke, is old enough to make real memories. when luke falls off the wakeboard during a family day on the boat, luce panics, leading to a cascade moments with her uncles and a tender lakeside moment between you and luke.

fia’s note: okay, here’s another dad!luke hughes fic for you all! in this one, instead of calling jack ‘uncle jack,’ luce gives him the nickname ‘uncle rowdy’ because, of course, she thinks it’s the funniest way to tease him. even if she doesn’t always act super sweet around jack, she still loves her uncle a lot (just… maybe not as much as uncle quinny, sorry jack 🫣). i really hope you all enjoy this one! and if you ever want to yap about dad!luke or any of the players, my inbox is always open!. also to all of my mid/plus-size luke girlies out there, and for anyone who’s looking for more luke x mid/plus-size reader content, i actually opened a separate blog just for that! 🥹 i’ll be posting all my fics for that theme over at @voicemailfromluke-beep, so feel free to check it out.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @silvenyy

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion | fia's nav.

“Daddy! Snoopy! Guess what!”

Lucy’s came running on socked feet, nearly slipping on the hardwood in Quinn’s lake house kitchen as she skidded to a stop in front of Luke. You were pouring juice into her pink thermos with a smiling Snoopy sticker on it, while Luke bent down, catching her mid-jump into his arms.

“What, baby?”

Luke asked, grinning as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I saw a fishy outside! It went like zoom!” She flung her arm out dramatically,

“And I think it was tryin’ to talk to me, Snoopy. Maybe it said hi.”

“Really? A talking fish? You’re special, Luce?” he replied, raising his eyebrows.

“I am very special,” she nodded, dead serious, poking his nose.

“And I need you to be very brave today, Daddy. ‘Cause I’m gonna watch you do the fly board thing.”

“Wakeboard,”

You corrected gently, laughing under your breath as you handed Lucy her thermos.

“Yeah! Wakeboard! But no fallin’, ‘kay? ’Cause I’m little and I don’t like when you fall.”

Her voice dropped, suddenly serious as her little brows furrowed.

Luke scooped her up, kissing her cheek.

“I promise I’ll be super careful for you, Luce.”

It was a tradition now, every summer at Quinn’s lake house.

The first time you came, you were newly married. The second, you were pregnant. The third, Lucy was just learning to walk. Now, four summers in, your daughter had her own bedroom in the house with hand-drawn ‘Peanuts’ characters on the walls (a surprise Quinn had organized with a local artist after Lucy’s first birthday.)

Quinn, Jack, Luke, and you had packed the boat that morning, snacks, sunscreen, floaties, towels, and of course, Lucy’s pink life jacket with sparkly hearts. It barely fit her anymore, but she refused to wear anything else.

You got her into her swimsuit early, layering a t-shirt over it just in case the wind picked up on the water. She was practically vibrating with excitement, hopping up and down on the deck while the boys prepped the wakeboard gear.

“Careful, Luce,” you warned playfully.

“You bounce any harder and you’ll launch off the dock.”

She stopped to point dramatically at her father, who was already climbing into the water.

“Look! Snoopy’s gonna do his slidey dance!”

Luke stood on the board, grinning back at her.

“Slidey dance, huh?”

Lucy nodded solemnly, arms crossed. “Just don’t fall, ‘kay? I don’t like when you fall.”

It was all going great… until, of course, Luke did fall.

You felt it instantly. The shift in your daughter’s joy. One second she was squealing with delight, sitting backwards on your lap with her arms wrapped around your neck, and the next the moment Luke hit the water with a splash, and she stiffened.

Her face turned into your shoulder, her little voice muffled.

“Snoopy fell. Mommy, he fell!”

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed softly, rocking her.

“He always falls. That’s part of the fun.”

But she sniffled, and you heard it, very small, building cry of someone overwhelmed by love and fear.

“I don’t like it when Snoopy’s gone under. What if he doesn’t come up?”

“He’s already up,”

You murmured, turning her head gently toward the sound of Luke’s voice as he climbed back on the boat.

“Look, he’s waving.”

“Luce, I’m okay!” Luke called.

“Promise. Wanna come swim with me and uncles?”

She hesitated, eyes still glistening, until you crouched to zip up her life jacket.

“Daddy’s in the water now, and guess what? Uncle Jack and Uncle Quinn are going down there too. If you go in, you’ll have all your silly boys in one place.”

Lucy wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Can I go on Uncle Quinny’s shoulders?”

“Of course.”

You handed her down to Luke, who whispered something to her that made her giggle mid-sniffle, and then she was splashing around between all three Hughes boys, each taking turns letting her sit on their shoulders like royalty. Jack tried to do flips with her, but she screamed everytime and clung to Quinn like a koala.

Meanwhile, on the boat…

Luke flopped down beside you, shirtless, damp, exhausted, and grinning.

“I survived,” he said, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Barely.”

“She was really scared,” you murmured.

“I know,” he replied.

“That’s why I let her be with them for a bit. Give her a chance to feel brave with her uncles.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“And you wanted an excuse to cuddle me.”

“Also true.”

Luke pulled out his phone, the two of you squishing your heads together for a salty, sunlit selfie.

“By the way,” he said casually.

“I was thinking… Paris. For your birthday.”

You blinked. “Paris-Paris?”

Luke’s smirk curled. “Actually, without Lucy.”

“Without?”

“I miss just us. Don’t get me wrong, I love our girl more than anything. You know we sneak away. Just you and me.”

“…A proper couple’s trip. I love her more than life, but I miss us. I want to drink wine with you on a balcony and maybe…”

His hand gently rubbed over your belly.

“Make Lucy a sibling.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to seduce me with the Eiffel Tower?”

“It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Gosh, Luke Hughes, you’re so funny.”

When the sun was down and the boat docked, Lucy was already snuggled in a towel in Quinn’s arms, licking a watermelon ice cream cone.

“Thank you, Uncle Quinny,” she said sweetly, then turned to Jack.

“You can’t have a lick. You made fun of my Snoopy.”

“Oh—I’m sorry,” Jack pouted.

“Nope,” she said with a shrug.

“You not sorry enough, Uncle Rowdy.”

Ellen and Jim met you at the dock, having just arrived. Lucy bolted into their arms the moment her feet hit land.

“Nana! Papa!” she squealed.

“My little Luce!” Ellen cried. “Did you have fun?”

Lucy nodded, launching into a chaotic, breathless retelling.

“Snoopy fell! It was scary! But Uncle Quinny gave me ice cream, and I didn’t cry a lot, just a little, and then I was brave and then I got on Uncle Rowdy head but I ‘accidentally’ pulled his hair, Nana, but he teased my Snoopy so it was fair.”

You, Luke, and the brothers stood nearby, watching her perform like a little storyteller on a stage, and Luke’s hand found yours.

“She’s turning into the best parts of both of us,” he murmured.

You smiled, threading your fingers with his.

“No,” you said.

“She’s turning into herself. We’re just the lucky ones who get to love her.”

[kithtaehyung]

minted (m) (teaser) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️

"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

[scribbly-squid]

Sexting | Lucifer Imagine

Lucifer x F!Reader

Imagine: Lucifer discovers the thrill of sexting, with a little guidance from his fellow Sin, Asmodeous.

🌻 Warning for adult themes (non-explicit)

Masterlist

Belphegor let out a groggy groan, shifting in her chair. "Shouldn’t you get that?" she muttered, her irritation clear. Lucifer’s phone had buzzed incessantly for the third time, shattering the relative quiet of the Sin’s council meeting. Her nap—interrupted—was now a distant dream.

Lucifer, visibly flustered, let out a forced chuckle, a slight sheen of guilt on his face as he adjusted his white jacket. "Right… uh, it’s probably just Charlie needing help with her hotel again." He fumbled to retrieve his phone from the inner pocket of his coat. He’d only recently learned how to silence the device—thanks to Charlie’s patient instructions—but his awkwardness betrayed how unnatural it still felt to him.

His fingers froze as his gaze landed on the screen. It wasn’t Charlie. It was you.A small crease formed between his brows, surely he reminded you about the meeting. He distinctly remembered your playful teasing this morning, coaxing him into attending—something about needing to embrace his “kingly duties.”

He shot a quick glance around the room, meeting the curious gazes of Mammon and Leviathan, before abruptly standing. "Let’s take five," he declared, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Before anyone could respond, Lucifer stepped out of the council chamber and into the hallway, his polished boots echoing faintly against the marble. He walked a good distance, ensuring privacy, before pulling out his phone to read the messages.

“It’s lonely here without you.”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes softening. Of course you were lonely. The hotel was empty, with everyone else away for the day. His heart softened as he imagined you waiting for him. His thumb hovered over the screen as the next message popped up.

“Do you miss me?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he shook his head fondly. Did he miss you? More than you could imagine. Attending this dull meeting had been your idea, but now, the mere thought of you made him wonder if he should’ve stayed home instead.

The next message made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m drawing up a nice warm bubble bath. Really wish I was in your arms right now.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched, and he instinctively leaned against the cool stone wall for balance. The mental image your words conjured sent a rush of warmth through him, making him adjust the collar of his shirt. His fingers tightened around his phone, his heart racing as the final text appeared.

“What are you wearing?”

For a moment, he froze, his dark brows furrowing. He glanced down at himself, taking in the tailored white suit he always wears. His fingers brushed the bowtie, suddenly self-conscious. Before he could type a response, a smooth, familiar voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"Luce, babe," Asmodeus purred, his confident stride echoing as he approached. "We’re continuing the meeting after lunch. Hopefully, an hour is enough time for you to handle… whatever’s got you distracted."

Lucifer startled, glancing up from his phone. "She… wants to know what I’m wearing," he blurted, his confusion spilling out before he could stop himself.

Asmodeus froze, blinking in surprise before his lips curled into a grin. "Your daughter is asking what you’re wearing?" he teased, fighting back a chuckle.

"No!" Lucifer snapped, his voice a bit too loud. He quickly cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain calm. "It’s Y/N. She’s been… texting me. Strange messages."

The Sin of Lust arched a perfectly groomed brow, as he leaned in to glance at the phone. The smirk on Asmodeus’s face deepened as he clapped a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Well, why don’t you send her a picture?” he teased. “I’m sure she’s dying to see what her dashing king is wearing today. Maybe she needs a little—” he paused for effect, “inspiration.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the growing heat on his cheeks. Asmodeus was no help—if anything, his mischievous energy only made things worse. But before Lucifer could protest, another message popped up, and Asmodeus leaned over again, grinning like a cat.

“So you don’t forget who’s waiting for you back home.”

Attached was a selfie of you—smiling sweetly, yet unmistakably sultry. The curve of your lips and the gleam in your eyes made his heart stutter.

Lucifer inhaled sharply, quickly straightening his jacket and adjusting his bow tie. A mirror materialized beside him with a snap of his fingers, and he meticulously smoothed back his golden hair.

"How’s this?" Lucifer asked, sparing a glance at the Sin of Lust.

Asmodeous smirked. "Not bad, but you could’ve done better. Maybe lose a button or two. Add some spice."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the suggestion as he snapped a quick photo of himself and sent it to you, accompanied by a small message:

“Thinking of you too. See you soon.”

The phone buzzed almost instantly in response, and Lucifer turned his back on Asmodeus, shielding the screen from view. His breath hitched as he opened the image you sent—a picture of yourself sprawled on the bed, wearing one of his silk shirts that barely clung to your figure. The hem rode dangerously high, teasingly hinting at what lay beneath. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the shirt, as though daring him to imagine more.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his pulse racing as he read the caption beneath the photo.

“Come home soon. I don’t want to wait.”

“You said the meeting resumes in an hour, right?” Lucifer’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

Asmodeus hummed in affirmation, his grin unwavering.

“Make it two,” Lucifer said, his tone firm.

Before Asmodeus could respond, Lucifer vanished in a swirl of red and gold, the air crackling with energy in his wake.

Left alone, Asmodeus let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he smirked at the empty space. “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she, Luce?” he muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head.

[3r-tree]

LCB sinners as characters inside Honkai Star Rail universe because why not (1/3) Second batch (5-8) here

I might have failed it successfully due to HSR character design is hard (intricate motif, questionable cloth layering, belts, more belts) but I'm enjoying the whole process. I divided the series into three parts, and the second batch (5-8) is completed (but I just uploaded it to Tumblr later because I forgot I have Tumblr lol). People told me that I ended up made something more akin to Arknights character design which is a pleasant surprise. Yi Sang: His design is the easiest out of the sinners since his design consists of a monochrome palette (shades of black, white, and grey). The idea behind his design is that he's supposed to be inspired by traditional Korean clothes with a little touch of Greek design (the white outer are supposed to be inspired by chiton, the owl pin) from Ratio design. The white tail on his back is supposed to resemble a pair of wings with a broken glass pattern. I can imagine The Nine Litterateurs was supposed to be a small group of scientists at first only for IPC to mess them up. Imagine Dongrang ended up at the Technology Department in IPC and Yi Sang ended up stays at Candelagraphos even though he's not completely free since Intelligentsia Guild is getting sponsored by IPC.

Faust: I know we already have a witch-inspired genius on Genius Society (Herta) but I feel like it's a wasted opportunity to not make her a witch with her Walpurgisnacht theme (there's a subtle clock imagery on her hat where the clock hands almost strike to midnight, referencing "witch hour"). Some of the paths that I choose here are supposed to match their personality while the other is supposed to balance the sinners (because we will end up with almost all of them being a dps if I don't balance them). Since she also has a strong homunculus theme, I made her more akin to an alchemist which is where her abundance path came from. Iirc, the angels used roses to ward off Mephistopheles.

Don Quixote: First of all, shout out to @/cloudierrr on Twitter for helping me design her (because I'm bad with the yellow color palette)! I tried to draw "someone cosplaying as a knight" so I wanted to make her as flamboyant as possible. Her clothes are inspired by traje de luces because I love how intricate it is. I ended up making her as Galaxy Ranger since "justice vigilante" stuff sounds like something that Don would do (not that the leader of Galaxy Ranger is La Mancha LMAO). Another faction that I think will fit her is Knight of Beauty. Imagine her being chaotic with Rappa and Boothill tho-

Ryoshu: I know her choice of design is the most out-of-the-place of all of them and I must admit, she's one of the sinners that I don't have a strong grasp on her character (her canto and Edo Star are not yet released, sadly). Her choice as remembrance character is because I noticed that all of the remembrance characters in HSR so far are the one who can appreciate beauty. There's not really a reason for her to be in Elation faction except Aha just wants to troll her (I imagined her using art as a form of elation but eh-). My idea for her memosprite is a monkey spirit, referencing her literary source.

[kiestrokes]

Day 20: heatwaves | NSFW

▸ Idol: Kim Hongjoong of ATEEZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: active WIP, smut, monster fucking, DUBCON, demon/apocalyptic AU. ▸ Vibe: this came from a casual conversation with @minttangerines and @minisugakoobies over the summer about the extreme heat. Luce said that she "expected to see demons playing in the grass" and my brain ran with it. The Earth's core is cooling, demons are like reptiles in a way, they need extreme heat to survive. Heat that now can only be found on the Earth's surface. Until that too is gone, or the anti-demon humans annihilate their entire race. This is a much later excerpt. ▸ Warnings: language, pet names I think, demons, green striped crop top HJ.

Sexually Explicit Content: MONSTERFUCKING, HJ is a demon, DUBCON. DNI IF THESE THEMES/KINKS ICK YOU OUT, cross species curiosity, kissing, oral (male receiving), sexual intercourse (penis in vagina), multiple positions, orgasms (multiple for both), biting, marking, overstimulation, lust haze, aftercare.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is being posted for my wipmas.) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. Left notes in again.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

Hongjoong was nestled into your side, like he had been for the last several months. Absorbing any heat, he could leech from you with his already scorching body. Wearing the same crop top as the first time you had met him. Slim waist and the curve of his hips taunting you. 

“Do I have something on me?”

“What? No.”

His hand skims his stomach brushing the shirt further up his ribcage, exposing just the slightest peak of the swells of his chest. 

“Can you lay on me? My stomachs cold”

“You could pull your shirt down.”

He pouts at you, and you sigh, complying. Snuggling into his waist, pressing your cheek to his stomach. Nuzzling around to get comfortable. He threads a hand into your hair, fingers singeing your scalp with a happy sigh. You press a kiss to his navel, and he stiffens. 

“Sorry...”

“You just caught me off guard.”

His hand blindly trails to your lips, fingers stroking. 

“Your mouth is cool.”

“Is yours?”

“Why don’t you come check.”

You lift your face to see his staring mischievously down at you. 

“Joong,” you breathe eyes dropping to his lips

“Only if you want.” 

You roll your cheek against his abdomen laying another kiss, heat flaming your face at the soft gasp he makes, fueling your pursuit. You trail his belly button with your tongue and he groans, stiffening underneath you, his hand returning to fist your hair.

You kiss your way up his stomach, rising up on your knees to straddle him. The noises he vocalizes as your leave marks in your wake knock any previous apprehensions out the window.

Shoving his shirt up to expose his chest, lips locking onto a nipple. Causing Hongjoong to buck his hips up into you with a broken moan. Your tongue swirls around the nub and he shudders into the bed beneath you. His hands in your hair trying to tug your face to his, you let him, and his mouth is hot, so warm that it makes you moan into his mouth when your tongues press together.

“Hongjoong-” you rasp, trailing kisses across his jaw before you let him seal your lips again. 

He’s devouring you, as if this is the only thing he’s wanted to do for months. You pull away to gasp for air, sitting in his lap and realizing that he’s hard beneath the denim. Hongjoong pants, pupils gleaning red from your contact. 

You stare down at the small demon, your marks littering his body. Reaching out and squeeze the pectoral you hadn't gotten to give attention to and his eyes close at the grope. You trace your hands down his waist, over the curve of his hips to rest on the band of his jeans. 

You swallow as you undo them, your mouth already salivating at the thought of his dick. 

His pretty fingers capture your wrist, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” 

“Okay,” he sighs raggedly, swallowing hard.

You unzip the jeans and slip a hand inside just to palm him, Hongjoongs hips jerk at the contact and you give him a small squeeze. 

“You’re hot here too.”

He nods; lips parted. You retrieve your hand and hook your fingers into the band of his pants to pull them down. You nearly moan as he lifts his hips toward you to help, a movement so small, that it shouldn’t have such an effect on you.

The jeans hit the floor with a thud and clatter of the button. Hongjoong tugs his shirt off before pulling your face back to his for another kiss. You reach down to stroke his hips and thighs before cupping him again. Causing him to gasp and thrust into your hand, your lips disconnecting. You take this opportunity to latch onto his other nipple teeth squeezing before rubbing your tongue against the peak as your hand slips beneath his boxers, stroking him bare. Hongjoong lets out whine and you jump as wetness greets your thumb you pop off his nipple in surprise. 

“Do you have semen?”

Hongjoong's flushed face nods and you’re slipping down to remove his boxers so quickly neither of you have time to think before he’s completely nude beneath you. Dick beautiful, curved and leaking against his stomach. 

“Fuck,” you hiss before lowering yourself to lick the bit off his stomach, your tongue brushing to tip.

Hongjoong jerks, crying out at the contact. You appease him by sucking the tip into your mouth. 

“Ahhh!”

His hand cups the back of your neck as you stand his cock up to slide him into the back of your throat.

“Oh, fuck please,” Hongjoong's frantic gaze meets yours and you hum around him before sliding up and down his shaft. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip and slide back down as he watches you. Body stiff underneath your touch, growing impossibly hotter. 

More head details. 

Until he’s resisting the urge to thrust upwards into your mouth. You pull off to stroke him and he knocks your hands away after a few pumps.

“I need you.” 

You nod and let him roll you onto your back, fingers slipping into the side of your panties to dive into your hole. You arch into him, already embarrassingly dripping.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong growls behind clenched teeth.

He slips them off and moans as you open yourself to him, his cock swollen and dripping at this point. He bites his bottom lip as he fists himself. 

“I just need to feel you.” 

You nod again, and he’s slanting up your body, tugging your hips down to thrust inside. The two of you gasp out at the impact and he burrows his face into your neck with a slow rock of his hips. His erection searing your canal. 

“Hongjoong.”

“I’ll stop in a minute.”

“Don’t stop,” you shudder as he deepens his thrusts.

He lifts his face to meet your lidded gaze.

“Yea?” His eyes glint, as he angles his thrusts up into the front of your pelvis you cry out in pleasure.

“How good do I feel?”

“So good.”

You whimper as he strokes hard into that one spot, your body already tightening on itself. 

“Fuck so do you,” his hips stutter and he realigns, “I’m not gonna last.” 

“It’s ok, I’m not either.” 

His lips are on yours again and you’re panting into each others mouths as he speeds up.

“Holy shit,” you bury your nails in his shoulders, causing him to hiss into your neck in pleasure. “Deeper Joong.”

He complies with a moan and your head tips back at the stroke, baring your throat to his lips. 

“I need to-“ and then he’s biting your neck and you’re coming around him hard.

So suddenly you can’t hold back your sounds of pleasure and his muffled moans echo yours. As his tongue laps at your neck sucking a spot against the column of your throat. His hips jerk sharply as he spills into you, warmth spreading across in the inside of your pelvis.

"Ahh-hngh-Joong!"

Hongjoong keeps pumping until your legs drop from his sides in exhaustion. He pulls back to look at you, pelvis rocking slowly into yours as you shudder through the aftershocks.

“You feel so good. Just let me,” his eyes close and a groan leaves his lips as he picks up speed again, “one more.”

And he does, you watch almost out of body as he pumps you to another orgasm. You can feel his hot release spilling around his swollen cock as he keeps working your tight hole.

“Hongjoong!” You a gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets as you gush around him.

“I can’t stop,” he pants his jerking erratically.

You’re pushed into another orgasm and Hongjoong right along with you. Red glint in his eye strong as his release forms a creamy ring around his cock being pushed out by your seizing insides. 

“Joong-” you groan.

He pins your arms above your head pumping into you, “it's been so long, I forgot how good this feels.”

Hongjoong's mouth is on yours then, tongue sliding against yours as your hips tiredly rock into his, sweat pooling between your breasts that he trails his mouth down to lick before his teeth nip across to a nipple. 

“Shit,” you hiss. 

He releases your hands to hitch a leg up, wicked smile spreading across the sensitive skin of his breast. You cry out as he strokes that one spot tirelessly, groaning around your breast as you tighten around him. Rubbing deeper until you’re convulsing again helplessly.

“Joong, I can’t-I can’t!” 

“One more,” he moans rolling you partially on your side slapping into you. 

As it builds again you roll onto your stomach and Joong moans at the way you submit yourself underneath him, lifting your hips to slam into the hilt. 

“Fuck, I’m spilling out of you,” he strokes his release seeping out around your entrance and you groan. 

“We-" you stop as a shudder rolls through you, “-need to stop.”

Hongjoong splays a hand between your breasts pulling you back against him. Slowing his hips but deepening the stroke. You cry out at the sensation. Hongjoong watches over your shoulder. Tongue teasing this top teeth. 

“Why stop when it feels so good?”

He pulls your lips to his, both of you panting into each others mouths more than kissing.

“It’s too much,” you clutch his thigh as another orgasm threatens to roll over you. 

“Is it?”

Hongjoong groans squeezing your hip as his dick swells at the tip, spearing open your swollen, sensitive insides as he fights off spilling into you too soon.

“Ye-sss” you stutter, legs tightening and he groans, both of your hips jerking, heads tossing back and you come together. 

“One more,” he hisses and pins you down by the back of your neck.

Fighting with your swollen insides for entry, even with the overly slick glide of your multiple releases.

“Joong,” you gasp, turning your cheek against the dampened sheets.

“You look so good right now, and you’re so fucking warm.”

Hongjoong's lidded, red hazed gaze meets yours and you know you’ve unlocked a door neither of you will be able to close. His small but toned chest flushed an angry red, as his shockingly strong hips steadily chasing yours. You cry out in pleasure at the sight of him. Cunt fluttering. He groans, hips rubbing into you flush against your ass.

“You can come harder than that, let me feel you!”

Hongjoong gets what he wants, his words extending your heavily building climax you rut back against him and are greeted with a surprised gasp from him so you do it again. Lewd sounds filling the room until he’s bowed over you hammering in. 

“Ahh I’m close-” he whines bucking into you hard.

The friction directly over that one spot as your body tightens on itself. Hongjoong groans, rubbing harder as you thrust back. 

“Not yet!”

Your vision clouds as your chase your new high. His hands bruise into your hips, his body stiffening behind you. Breathing raggedly and he fights his release.

“Hoongjoong,” you whimper, hips jerking shakily against his hands.

He guides you along and you wail at the feeling, clutching his cock.

Hongjoong growls slamming into you, “right there.”

Then it is there. Falling over the ledge just as Hongjoong spills one final time into you before shakily stilling. He falls away from you muttering a flurry of "I’m sorry" as you collapse on your side. 

“It’s ok, it's ok, that was just...intense”

He’s out of the bed in the bathroom running water and then he’s back “I can’t walk”

He looks alarmed “what?”

“Just give me a minute.”

He does and the helps you into the tub, beginning to clean you intimately until you catch his wrist and he meets your eyes. The lust gone from his, but resurfacing in yours at his touch. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows.

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You won’t drown if I leave you?”

You laugh, “you can get in with me.”

He shakes his head no “you look-“ he swallows hard and then looks away.

You understand he’s controlling himself. He leaves to take a cold shower. You find him shivering after you’re clothed and cuddle up on the couch to recover. 

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations. No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text, including without the limitation technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

[eternal-echoes]

I initially thought that the blue hair made Luce too modern but this explanation makes me like her even more.

I really do like the symbolisms in Luce. She’s not just a kawaii anime character, she possesses with her a lot of deep Christian ongoing themes.

[lydiadeetzwannabee]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆pure evil⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

⁺‧₊˚♱⋆ summary: Art’s dreams have been plagued by a certain creature of the night. It was only a matter of time until he decided to call to you.

⁺‧₊˚⋆ notes: priest!art x vampire!reader, fem!reader, religious themes & imagery, blasphemy, mutilation, body horror, blood, sexual content, smut, dead dove: do not eat

⁺‧₊˚⋆ w/c: 5079

⁺‧₊˚⋆ a/n: bitches watch nosferatu one time and make it their whole personality (me) this is my first time writing something like this so it’s probably not up to par (writing smut is scary) but i tried. maybe ill proofread a fifth time later today

1839

New Rochelle, New York

Art grew exhausted of your torment.

It was as if you existed solely to haunt his dreams, a living manifestation of the darkness within him, forcing him to face it. He was restless, your face and body engraved in his mind. He felt you everywhere; he saw you everywhere. He saw you in the stained glass that adorned his church, depicting Archangel Michael slaying Satan—the embodiment of evil that resembled you. He heard you during his sermons of lust and temptation, speaking of the deadly sins with such disgust you’d scarcely believe he partook in them. He felt you late at night as he begged the Lord to free him from your temptations while his hand would slip beneath his waistband. He relished in the imagery of you in his nightmares, what you did to him buried deep in his mind in shame.

No amount of prayer or confession was enough to rebuke you from his mind. Your fingers were clawing at his head and he was a prisoner against you, unable to tear himself away.

And he believed he was prepared when he decided to summon you. He was a man of God, protected by the Holy Spirit and guardian angels that had guided him his entire life, while you were a consequence of the deepest pits of hell. He chose his church—where you couldn’t have stood a chance—to be where he finally confronted you. The setup was imperfect, only being developed from what he could remember from lost texts from the seminary; an old exorcism manual written in the margins. He stood in the middle of a blessed salt circle with a Bible open on the ground, his hand holding onto his rosary so tightly it would leave an imprint once he let go. He believed in God, that His word would be sufficient enough to send you back to the inferno you escaped to terrorize him from.

The candles along the altar were the only light to illuminate the passage in front of him. He remembered the night he found the text; the sun had not yet risen, and the church was eerily silent. It was in the restricted section with the moonlight shining on its spine—as if he were meant to find it. Perhaps God was leading him again, showing him the way back to light. He read through the annotations of a long-dead priest, someone who faced a similar haunting centuries ago and took drastic, forbidden measures to confront it. Some parts were written in Latin, but he believed he could understand what he was reciting.

So, he put his trust in His guidance. He wrapped his rosary around his hands and sank to his knees. His eyes shut as he brought his clasped hands to his forehead, exhaling a shaky breath. “Invoco te spiritus absconditus in virtute omnipotentis Dei,” he began, his voice low, his hands trembling. “Ante me revela te,” the fire from the candles flickered, a sudden chill running over him. “Et in luce veritatis discute tenebras.”

For a few seconds, nothing. The longer he waited, the louder the silence became. His grip on the rosary tightened before he opened his eyes, scanning around the empty church. A small ring began in his ears, and he found himself growing infuriated. The only time he willingly calls to you is when you don’t appear. You live off his torture, and he should’ve known that by now. He let go of the rosary, reaching for the Bible and flipping through to read the smeared annotations. There was a certain restlessness to the way he moved; his breath had picked up, and his eyes were wider. His calm, measured Latin became frenzied. He’s flipping through pages, saying prayers and incantations without thinking—just throwing words at you, hoping something provokes you.

And then—he lands on it. A page reading Ligare Spirituum at the top. He doesn’t think twice. God knows he can’t understand the page fully written in Latin, but he’s desperate. “Adstringo te, sanguinem et animam, vinculo indissolubili. Inter nos nullum refugium, nullum secretum. Per me, in me, permane.”

By the time the final word leaves his mouth, it’s silent.

Just silence.

Too much of it.

The kind that makes the walls seem farther away than they are like the room has stretched—empty, vast, and wrong. Even his breathing sounds distant, like it’s not coming from his body but from somewhere else, echoing back at him.

And then he feels it. Not physical, not something he can fight, but a sudden, unbearable sense of presence. It’s different from all his dreams, from what it would feel like to have you in his vicinity. He can feel you inside of him, woven into his thoughts, sitting somewhere just behind his ribs, like a heartbeat that’s not his own. A hollow ache blooms in his chest. Loneliness. Hunger. A gnawing emptiness he knows isn’t his but yours. He knew then what he had done.

His eyes snap open, his breath ragged as his gaze lands on the beginning of your gown resting against the decorative tile. He waits, almost in fear, before his eyes continue to move up your form, silhouetted against the stained glass. It’s only when his eyes focus that he sees your features. You were exactly as you looked in his fantasies, hauntingly beautiful.

The left side of your face was luminous against the moonlight, your pupil full of life, gleaming with hunger as you looked down at him. Your neck was slender, unblemished. The skin on your throat is like marble, silken and perfect. At the beginning of your collarbone, he sees it. Your flesh is sallow, mottled with the blue-black webbing of dead veins that flourish back to color when it reaches your live skin. Along the left side of your face, there's a patch of skin thin as parchment, as if time has begun to peel you away at the edges. Your left eye seems more captivating than the right, its colorful pupil devoid of its hue, lifeless. You tilt your head, revealing the side of your jaw where your skin is torn, like a cruel reminder that death has already touched you.

And he’s afraid, not due to your decay, but because he cannot look away. He’s not repulsed; if anything, he’s more drawn to you. It’s hypnotic. You were divine—a cracked statue that still manages to captivate any passerby with its beauty that was sculpted centuries ago.

“Please,” he says in a frayed whisper, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. He isn’t sure what he’s pleading for. Is it for you? To allow him to touch you? To allow him to love you and provide you with his blood like he has in all his nightmares? Or for you to free him from this agony that you’ve bestowed on him?

He finds his answer when he lowers onto his palms, disrupting the salt circle as he begins to crawl to you. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, as if he were possessed. Yet he knew it wasn’t you taking control, but him surrendering, making space in his mind for you to take him, feed on him, whatever you needed. He’d serve you.

You don’t back away when he finally reaches your legs, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your knees in a desperate attempt to bring you closer. The physical contact makes him release a breathy moan, his eyes flutter shut as he grips you with shaky hands. Art can feel your cold, clothed flesh under his palms. He’s starving for your attention, your approval, your canines piercing his throat. “Please,” he repeats, his voice choked up as he rubs his cheek against the skirt of your gown.

This was what you had expected: a desperate, lonely, tormented priest pleading for you. It wasn’t unusual; men devoted to God were often the first to be swallowed by evil. “You surpass even the dreams,” you heard him mumble against the century-old fabric. You’ve handled men like him before, but he trembled with a certain desperation you hadn’t seen in the others. “Take me—claim me—I am yours,” he mouthed at your gown, seemingly trying to get a taste of you. His drool was soaking your gown, and who were you to deny easy food?

Your hand reaches out to grip his face, rough with bruised knuckles and the purple, rotten skin beneath your nails, a perfect dichotomy to his pale, pure skin. You force him to face you, though he doesn’t resist. Your sharp nails dig into his cheeks, drawing a whine from him. He remains obedient, staring up with knitted eyebrows and parted lips. “And all that I am, all that I have,” he declares as he embraces your touch, “I shall surrender.”

Your hand moves to wrap around his neck with a tight grip, pulling him up off of his knees, and he complies. His lips crash onto yours before you can deny him, frantic and rough. There’s no tenderness in the kiss. It’s driven by need and desperation, his lips sliding against you as if it’s the last time he ever will. It might as well be. He can’t help but shudder when you cradle the back of his head, moaning when you grip his hair to yank his head back. Your mouth slants against his as if you’re trying to drink from him, to feel his breath, to possess him. And for a fleeting second, Art can pretend that he’s plagued your mind and desires the way you have his.

But there’s no connection, not in the way he hoped. You’re a stranger, a predator, and yet he’s craving more. His mouth parts when your tongue pushes past his lips, and his eyes roll back at the taste of blood and death. He can feel his knees begin to buckle under him as he allows you to roam his mouth, taking him in a way that would ruin him from ever seeing the pearly gates. A small whimper escapes his lips when you pull back, your fingers digging into the back of his head enough to hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the way his head spins in pleasure.

Your fingers move down to the sides of his neck, applying just enough pressure to be able to feel the blood rushing through his veins. “You feel it, don't you, Father?” Your voice like a bell chimes in his ears, rough and low. “The pull, the hunger…“ The tip of your nose brushes down his neck, faintly picking up the scent of his blood. You’re teasing him, dangling what he wants right in front of his face, yet you won’t let him have it. His soft sounds become more pathetic the longer you wait, and he can begin to feel his cock straining against the confines of his slacks under his cassock. “Please,” Art says, desperate, his voice cracking, “I need it… need you.”

You smile, your fangs grazing against his Adam’s apple before you press your lips against his once again. Yet this time it’s not a kiss. It’s a bite. Your teeth sink into his lower lip in one swift motion, causing him to gasp. You softly moan at his taste, and his length twitches in response to the pain, yet it’s still not enough. You pull away and stare down at him, your eyes amused and dark.

Then your mouth is at the side of his throat before he can blink, your canines breaking his skin in a frenzied bite. His yelp of pain is drowned out by the sound of you tearing his skin, ripping off a sliver of flesh before your lips attack the open wound. The pain is unbearable, and his body falls slack against you, your grip on the back of his neck being the only thing holding him up. You begin to suck the scarlet fluid out of him, and he doesn’t know if he’s moaning out of pain or pleasure; there’s no distinction. Your mouth is warm against his neck, and his hands are all over you as you drain him. He’s clutching and pulling you closer as if trying to merge you two together.

You hum against him as you feed, his blood sweet, quenching your hunger in a way no other has. It’s as if you can taste his desperation, his yearning, his shame, his twisted hope that this will somehow transcend the relationship of predator and prey. It’s intoxicating, dizzying. You pull him closer, and he mewls while you take your time savoring his taste. Your lips move away from his neck when you snap out of your daze and let go of him, making him drop to the floor and slump against the altar.

Art’s barely conscious as his head lolls to the side, barring the angry wound at his throat, blood seeping out the bite. His skin is flushed, his breath ragged as he gapes up at you. You’re panting, his blood smeared all over your lips and chin while you peer down at him with a cruel grin, tongue darting out to catch the last taste of him like you can’t help yourself. And yet, despite the blood loss, despite the way his vision swims, something inside of him snaps. He feels it in his chest, an unbearable sense of emptiness, an unrelenting pull. A strangled sound escapes him—half a moan, half a growl—and then he’s grabbing you, clumsy and desperate. His hands fist your skirt, pulling you back to him. He scrambles to his knees, looking up at you through his lashes as his face levels with your heat. He can smell your arousal through the layers of fabric and he fights the tempting urge to cum right then and there.

“You stopped,” Art rasps, barely able to form words. “Why did you stop?” And you laugh, like this was exactly what you had wanted to see; him reduced to a compliant dog who’d follow your every order. Every single one of your actions is calculated, and he doesn’t know what to do with the ache inside him when you tease him so.

"I mustn't take too much… not yet,” you coo, an evil glimmer in your eye as you cup his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his cheekbone and he shudders. “We wouldn’t want you to faint before our pleasures reach their peak, would we?" But your smirk falters when his hands slide up your waist, his fingertips digging into the rotting silk. His grip is too tight, his hands are too desperate, and he’s clawing at you as if he wants to rip away the fabric to get to your bare skin.

He’s falling apart, holding you to pull himself up to his feet. Blood is still flowing from his neck, but he doesn’t let it deter him. You’re like morphine, pulling him back to you again and again to reduce his pain. “Is this what you want?” you breathe as you stare up at him, your voice hot against his jaw. Your fingers ghost over the wrinkled clerical collar, nails scraping against the fresh bite you’d left on him. He winces, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Yes,” he chokes out, like it’s the only truth he’s ever known.

And something in you breaks.

You’re the one with the supposed power over him, yet somehow now you can feel his need as if it were your own. His hunger claws at your ribs in a way that feels intrusive. He grabs you again, lifting you before slamming you back against the altar. The wind knocks out of you, and his lips tangle with yours. It’s a blur of hands and teeth, a brutal clash of control.

And it infuriates you.

Your hand flies to his throat, fingers curling around the still-bleeding bite. You squeeze just hard enough to make his breath hitch and blood rush out, forcing him to pull back from the kiss. His hands tangle in your hair, yanking your head back enough that you’re forced to meet his gaze. Your bodies are flush, too close in this battle of wills.

“You want me,” he rasps, trying to convince you as much as himself. “Tell me.”

Your thumb smears his blood along his throat in a slow and deliberate motion, watching the way his chest heaves at the touch.

“I want your blood,” you say mockingly.

“Then take it.”

And for a second, you seem to truly process the state of him. He’s offering himself. Not out of fear, not out of obligation, but because he wants you to ruin him. Not just his blood—him. Everything he is, everything he ever will be. Your hand loosens on his throat, and his lips are on yours again. It’s a brutal, punishing kiss, both of you aiming to rip something out of each other. It’s control as violence. It’s desire as war.

His body slotted between your legs, hands groping every inch of you they could reach. His breath was hot, his tongue invasive as it sought to familiarize itself with every curve and ridge. He was desperate to learn what made you gasp—anything that might weaken you. His palms fell down your waist onto your thighs, gripping your cold, rotted flesh as he pulled you to meet his hips. Your breath hitched and he moaned, swallowing the sound as his erection pressed against you. You needed to consume him, to devour him whole and leave him empty once you were done. Your hand slid down to palm him through his trousers, squeezing and stroking until he groaned into your mouth.

Art’s hips bucked reflexively, seeking your touch. His lips moved away from yours, swollen and glistening as he worked on the fastenings of your gown. The flimsy fabric practically deteriorated at the simplest touch, allowing him to rip it open, leaving your bare chest exposed to his hungry gaze. The moonlight shone through the stained glass, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors over your bare, impure skin. He dipped his head, capturing one of your perked nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking greedily. You cried out, the sound echoing through the empty chapel as your back arched off the altar. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished your nipple with attention. You could feel the heat building between your thighs, aching with a need you had never known before. "Father," you gasped, your voice a whimper that sent shivers down his spine. With a low growl, his lips left your chest before he hastily pushed up the skirt of your gown, tearing away any remaining lace that intervened.

He could see the glistening of arousal between your thighs, the scent of it inflaming his desire. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your hipbone before lowering down the length of your body. Each kiss was more worshipful than the last as he slowly moved down to your center. Your breath hitched as Art's face hovered above your pussy. You could feel the way his breath fanned over your slick folds in an almost cooling breeze, it made you squirm with anticipation. “Father..." you breathed. “I need—“Your words died on your lips when his mouth descended upon you, his tongue delving into your wet cunt.

A guttural moan escaped your mouth as his tongue explored your heat. His eyes rolled back at your taste, letting out a low moan that vibrated against your pussy, making your hips buck wildly. His arms wrapped your thighs in an iron grip, preventing you from squirming away as he licked and sucked. His lips sealed around your clit as he drew it into his mouth to suckle greedily, the pornographic sounds only serving to heighten your pleasure. His eyes opened to peer at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching every contortion of your face as he made out with your pussy. His tongue moved to poke at your entrance, slurping your arousal before prodding into you. A sharp gasp elicited from you, your hand flying to grip his blonde locks.

Art could feel your walls begin to flutter around his tongue, pulling back to stare at the mess he made of your cunt. You whined at the loss before groaning as his index replaced the wet muscle. His eyes were locked on you as his finger pumped into you, curling to stroke the spongy patch of nerves before slipping another finger into your tight channel. His mouth returned to attach itself around your clit, his eyes closing to focus on bringing you to your peak. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers moving in tandem to drive you wild with pleasure. The obscene sounds of your moans and the slick squelching of his digits pumping in and out of you filled the chapel, a debauched symphony that would have made the pious man recoil in horror if he were still in possession of his senses.

But Art was lost in a haze of lust, consumed by the all-encompassing need to bring you to the pinnacle of rapture. He could feel his arousal throbbing almost painfully, straining against the confines of his trousers. With his free hand, he fumbled to reach the fastenings under his cassock, finally freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, long, hard, and thick, the bulbous head already weeping with pre-cum. He wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft, stroking in time with the movement of his hand.

Your orgasm crashed over you, body convulsing as you screamed. Your walls clamped down around Art's plunging fingers, rippling and squeezing as they tried to draw them deeper. A flood of your essence gushed out, coating Art's hand and dripping down onto the stone altar beneath you. You thrashed and writhed, your back arching as pleasure ripped through every fiber of your being. You lay panting against the altar, your body coursing with the aftershocks. Art’s fingers slowly drew out of you, eliciting a whine from your lips. He stared in amazement before wrapping his lips around his digits. A soft hum echoed from him as he tasted you, his tongue swirling to not waste a drop. He stood up, his knees slightly trembling from being pressed against the tile floor. You gazed up at him with hazy, lust-drunk eyes, a small satisfied smile across your kiss-swollen lips.

“Father,” you panted, “I need you inside of me.” His eyes widened at the invitation, licking the remnants of you from his lips as he stepped back between your legs. “…to feel you, your cock filling me, to be made whole by your touch.” Art’s chest heaved as he struggled to regain control. The sight of you splayed out before him, your body glistening with sweat and juices, your hair sprawled around your head like a halo, he was but a man, weak to his temptations.

Any remaining restraint shattered. His fingers dug into your hips with a low groan, positioning himself at your wet entrance. You gasped as you felt the thick head of Art’s cock nudging against your tight hole. Your head was still hazy from your orgasm, folds still slick and ready enough to allow him to slide in with ease as he began to slowly push forward. Your walls stretched around his girth, adjusting to his size as he sank deeper and deeper into your cunt. Inch by inch, he hilted himself inside you, his pelvis pressing against yours as he bottomed out. You let out a long, low moan at the feeling of being full, your legs coming up to wrap around his waist. You could feel every throb and pulse of his cock deep inside you. Art's eyes rolled back in bliss as your scorching heat engulfed him, your walls gripping his shaft like a velvet vice. He had never felt anything so exquisite, so perfectly suited to his every need. It took every ounce of his willpower not to simply start pounding into you, to chase his release with wild abandon.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscles as you urged him closer. "Move," you commanded breathlessly, "fuck me, Art. Claim me, make me yours." You rocked her hips against his, trying to spur him into action. With a guttural groan, Art began to withdraw until just the tip of his cock remained inside of you before slamming back in with a force that shook the altar. You cried out, the sound echoing off the stone walls as he set a relentless pace, the slap of flesh against flesh filling the chapel.

“Fuck—like… like this?“ he asked, his voice strained with exertion and pleasure.

"Yes!" You cried out, your nails raking down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. Your body undulated beneath him, meeting his every thrust with wanton abandon. Art's hips pumped furiously, driving his thick length in and out of your clinging heat. He angled his thrusts to hit that spongy spot deep inside you, determined to bring you to another peak. One hand slid between your writhing bodies to find your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

Art’s face buried in your neck, his moans muffled against your skin as his hips sought out his high. You could hear the muttered prayers coming from him now and then, chanting “God, forgive me,” with each thrust of his cock, as if it would’ve been enough to repent him from the sin of taking you in such a sacred place. Except the way he clings to you shows he doesn’t want to repent at all; he needs this moment engraved in his memory to ever be sedated, he needs to know that this is real, that you need him as much as he needs you. You’re a demon of lust, temptation, and fear, and he’s your servant. He has been since the first night you chose to prey on him.

Art's hand continued to work your clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until he could feel you begin to tremble. Your orgasm was fast approaching, and the knowledge that he had brought you to the state of ecstasy only spurred him on. "Cum for me," he pleaded, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "I want to feel you cum on my cock, screaming my name for all the heavens to hear."

Your eyes flashed as you pulled him off your neck to stare up at him, your irises burning with newfound intensity. In a blur of preternatural speed, you surged forward, sinking your fangs deep into the tender flesh of his throat. Art gasped, a shock of pain quickly giving way to a surge of dark pleasure as you drank from him. His blood flowed over your tongue, the very essence of his soul. He could feel his heart racing, his cock already beginning to stir and swell inside you as you fed. Art's hands gripped your waist, not to push you away, but to hold you closer. He could feel the pull of your mouth, the sharp sting of her fangs, and it only inflamed his lust. "Yes," he gasped, "take it. Take all of me."

Your body seized up as your orgasm ripped through you. You gushed around his length, drenching his cock and balls in your juices. You convulsed and shuddered, wracked with the force of your pleasure. Art's climax followed swiftly, his balls drawing up tight as he buried himself in your warm cunt. His cock pulsed and throbbed as it erupted deep inside your cunt. Jet after jet of his hot, thick cum pumped into you, painting your inside walls. He ground his pelvis against yours, ensuring that every last drop was buried deep inside of you. You mewled and whimpered as you felt Art's release flooding your insides, the heat of it a stark contrast to your eternally cool body. Your walls milked his length, greedily suckling every bit of his spend from his pulsing cock. You could feel his seed beginning to seep out around his length, dripping down to your ass and the altar.

Art collapsed on top of you, his full weight pressing you into the stone as the last waves of his climax rolled through him. He panted harshly, his sweat-slicked skin sticking to yours as he struggled to catch his breath. And you held him close, your hand caressing the back of his head as you slowly removed yourself from his neck, lying back against the altar.

The church is silent, the kind of silence that feels heavier than sound itself. No choir, no prayers, just the lingering echo of what he’s done hanging in the air like incense. The stone walls seem colder now, as though the very foundation of the place is recoiling from them. The bites on his neck are angry and raw, the newest one dripping blood onto the stone under you. He can slowly begin to feel the shame and regret fill him as he comes to his senses, the ache of his injuries becoming prominent, but you just lay there satisfied. Not just from feeding—from taking.

“You taste better when you suffer,” you whisper.

He doesn’t respond; he can’t. His fingers twitch against you, his throat dry and hoarse from the broken sounds he had made when you fed on him when your bodies clashed.

Your fingers move down his spine before returning to the side of his neck. They press to feel the weak, faltering pulse and he whimpers.

"Poor priest," you mutter, a mockery of sympathy. "All that praying, and look where it's left you."

He should relish in your touch, but he doesn’t. Because now that his need has quieted, there's something else stirring inside him—inside you. Something worse. You told yourself it was only hunger, only thirst, but the way his body leans into her hand even now, the way his broken eyes search your face for something more, it’s not enough. It should be, but it isn’t.

And he’s afraid.

Afraid that this will be the last you’ll let him have you when you both know you need more. Afraid that he risked his place in heaven all for you to disregard him.

You’ll be gone before the sun rises.

And he’ll pray every day for your return.

tag(s): @matchpointfaist

[skxllz]

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 + 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who combs their fingers through lucifer's hair during any given chance. they're aware he can be a stressed out, self-pitying man who just needs some sort of release from all the baggage he carries amongst his shoulders. head pets and playing with his hair comforts him <3.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who often bakes sweets for lucifer's daughter but saves him a few ‘cause he never treats himself. surprising him with little duck-themed sugar cookies always causes the king the clutch a hand to his chest, little beads of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. don't tell anybody, but he's a sucker for your baking :).

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who has the habit of saying ‘ I love you, amor! ’ everytime they leave, or lucifer leaves, a room. it could just be momentarily and yet, it's still said — lucifer adores the act though, and his heart flutters everytime. he's never been reminded so many times of how much he's loved.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes pinky promises with lucifer everytime he tends to get stuck in his head. — “ I'm not going anywhere, luci. ever. ” - “ you promise? ” - “ I promise. ” — he's aware how much pinky promises mean to them, just the act of hooking their fingers around one another is enough to soothe the fallen angel's spirit.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who convinces lucifer to have father-daughter days to further repair his and charlie's relationship. he was afraid unsure of the idea at first, but was later persuaded once you showed up at his room with the blonde herself, a copy of beauty and the beast, and a promise to shower him in all of the kisses he deserves at a later date. how could he say no to that? — the night ended swell because him and charlie were hugging, babbling, in tears from the movie.

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who spoils lucifer with gifts whenever they can. he's usually the one rewarding others’ with gifts, so to be the one getting presents in return was surely something. it was always worth it in your eyes to see the man you love light up like a christmas tree just from the sight of a brand new tool set to craft his rubber ducks with. he appreciated it very much and couldn't express it enough!

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes a mixtape of earth's greatest 70's-80's hits. they were alive during the 90's/2000's and figured good ol’ luce would enjoy songs from two very phenomenal decades! he ends up really enjoying billy joel :).

♡ ⎬ soft! reader who makes a habit out of taking polaroid pictures of lucifer when he isn't paying attention. you keep a photo album of all of the pictures to give them to him on his not birthday! it's not only to build memories, but to show you love and appreciate every aspect of him. — when you do give it to him, he ends up staring at the pictures for a good five minutes before slowly standing up and hugging you. you're stuck with the king of hell clinging to you for the rest of the night, shoulder soaked in tears of thankfulness.

❥❥❥

I could add more but this is all I could think of for now 😅

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (14)

The start of adult themes at the end xx

Within the safety of my bed, I decided now would be the best time to write Keira and Lucy’s letter. I didn’t want it to be too graphic, but I wanted them to know the full truth. It took a lot of paper, a lot of tears and a glass of wine, but after an hour they were both finished. 

I sat them in the kitchen table, ready to give it to them tomorrow night. 

Dear Keira, 

You know how hard it is from me to talk about things, and there are things I have been keeping from you. This is the easiest way for me to tell you. Please don’t be mad….

Lucy’s letter was the same. A lot of truth, and potentially filling in the gaps of time. It wasn’t going to be easy to sit there and watch them read it, or answer the questions they had, or even deal with the aftermath. 

The following day went slowly, training went slowly, then recover. Everything was just painfully slow. The thought of the letters, burning a hole in my kitchen table. 

“Mils, are we still good for tonight?” Lucy caught up to me in the carpark. 

“Yeah yeah. Come at six yeah? I’ll order us some dinner.” 

The minute I got home the nerves set in. It was only 3pm so I had time to bed rot. Which is exactly what I did. For two hours and 59 minutes. A knock on my door bought be out of the warmth of my bed. 

“Jesus Christ. I’m coming- oh shit. Is it already 6?” Lucy and Keira were standing in front of my apartment. 

“It is. Are you ok?” Keira’s voice held concern, as did her face. 

“Yeah no everything’s fine. I just lost track of time. Come in. I’ll order dinner.” I ushered them inside. 

The silence was awkward, the letters were still on the dining table. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I- um. I have to give you guys something.” I got up and picked up the letters. “Everything that’s happened is in those letters. Things I have only said out loud a couple of times. You can go into the other rooms if you want. I’m just going to sit here.” I pointed to the dining table, gave them their letters and then walked away. 

Keira opened hers first, after reading the first paragraph, she got up and walked to the other room.

Half way through the food was delivered. I took note of Lucy, sitting on the couch. Staring into space. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I just sat back down. 

Alexia Putellas 

Hey, how’d it go?

Amelia Higgins

Unsure 🫤 

Lucy is on the couch. Not talking

Keira is in the spare room. 

Almost directly after I hit send, I heard Keira come out of the bedroom. I watched her walk towards the front door, put her shoes and jacket on and leave. 

“Keira! Wait!” I yelled out, getting up quickly. Lucy grabbed my arm, pulling me into a tight hug. 

“Let her go. It’s a lot. She just needs some time. Can we talk about the letter? If you don’t want to we can do it a different time?” 

I agreed to answer whatever questions she had. We sat and talked about it for a few hours. Lucy cried, I cried, then she was mad. Not at me but at them, at the situation that forced things to change so desperately. I kept checking my phone to see if Keira had messaged or called. She hadn’t. I was worried, Lucy could sense it. 

“I’ll go check on her ok. I’ll text you once I have. Thank you for telling me, and for letting me ask questions. I’m proud of you, now and forever.” 

“Love you luce.” We hugged again, she kissed my forehead and then off she went. 

3 days. It had been three days since Keira and Lucy came to my apartment. 3 days since Keira left. 3 days since Lucy texted me and told me Keira was fine, she just needed some time to comprehend everything. I was starting to lose it. 

“I don’t understand Ale. I wrote the letter, I gave it to her, and she just left? She won’t talk to me or even look at me. What more can I do?” 

“Give her time amor. She will come to you when she’s ready.” 

“Time? Time! How much more fucking time do I need to give her! This is ridiculous.” My voice was very loud, carrying through the hallway and reaching a hiding Keira. 

“Bebé, come here.” Alexia pulled me into her chest, kissing my temple and holding me tight. “How about we go to the beach tonight? Take some dinner and have a picnic?” She moved her hands to cup my face. I nodded as best I could. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7.” She went to walk away but I pulled her back, pouting at her. She gave me a quick kiss and then dragged me along. 

Despite my best efforts, Keira continued to ignore me. Everyone started to notice, Lucy kept sending me sympathetic looks through training. It was pure hell. 

“Kei wait!” She continued to ignore me. “How much longer are you going to ignore me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“You kept this all from me! For four years Amelia! Four fucking years. Then you tell Alexia first. Not me or Leah or even Lucy. You told Alexia! How is that fair?” The lock room went quiet. 

“Keira, come on. That’s not fair.” Lucy was trying hard to defuse the situation. 

“I am so sorry Keira that I didn’t tell you first. I’m sorry for not wanting to tell you the traumatic and disgusting details of what happened. But I did it to protect you. To protect this friendship.” 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She was crying but also getting angrier. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

I looked around, the locker room was slowly thinning out but the captains, Mapi and Ingrid and Lucy remained. 

“Why would I? It doesn’t change anything Keira.” 

“I could’ve helped! You left and I could’ve helped you!” 

“Keira listen to me. You couldn’t help me. Not you, Leah, Lucy or anyone. I needed to figure shit out. How to live with what happened that night. I am sorry that I hurt you, truly I am, but telling you then would’ve only made you worry more or hurt you more.” 

She moved towards me, wrapping her arms around me and mumbling sorrys over and over again. It took a while for both of us to calm down. The locker room was empty by the time we left. Lucy and alexia were standing by their cars, wanting to ensure we were okay. 

Keira and Lucy left after a quick chat. Alexia and I milled around for a bit discussing our plans for tonight. We went our separate ways. 

Once I was home, I threw my dirty laundry in the washing machine, filled up the dishwasher and jumped in the shower. I washed my hair, shaved every single part of me that I could think of and then moisturised. 

Tonight was the night. I was sure of it. I sifted through my new lingerie, deciding on an orange set that looked amazing against my tanned skin. The thought of Alexia undressing me was exciting. 

Once I was completely satisfied with my outfit, I sat on the couch and waited. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long because alexia buzzed on the intercoms. I got up and rushed to let her in, wanting to skip the whole dinner thing and go straight to dessert. 

“Dios mío, you look amazing.” She looked me up and down, taking a particularly long look at my legs that were barely hidden from my skirt. 

“Mm, so do you, let me get my keys?” I watched as she licked her lips and thrusted flowers into my hands. 

“For you!” She followed me inside as I got a vase for the flowers, I could fell her gaze on me as I moved around. 

“Okay, we need to leave now or we won’t leave at all.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice. As I looked up I noticed her eyes were completely black, she wanted this as much as I did. 

“Or we could just raincheck the beach? Stay in for the night?” I winked at her, before walking towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes Alexia. Please. I will beg you.” Something switch in her. 

“Then beg.” Cockiness, eagerness, excitement. 

“Please fuck me. Right here, right now.” 

Her lips collided with mine. Hard. It was messy, a mix of teeth and tongue, fighting for dominance. I moaned as my back hit the bench, her hands coming to rest on my ass. 

Her lips made their way down my neck, sucking marks that I’d have to deal with later. 

“Up” she said as she grabbed my thighs. She helped me get onto the counter. She took a step back, staring at me. I felt small under her intense gaze. 

“We can stop if you want?” I didn’t want to stop, but I wanted her to be aware that we could if she wanted to. 

“I don’t want to. I just want to see how hot you are before I destroy you.” 

————————————————————————

I moaned as her hands slowly made their way up my thighs. Her mouth attacking my neck and collarbone, slowly making their way down to the collar of my shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” She stopped, looking at me. 

“Please.” It came out more as a moan than anything. 

“Holy fuck. You’re so perfect.” 

[bronzeyslcve]

remind me why i love you - lucy bronze

paring: lucy bronze x female reader

theme: angst

summary: you and lucy have been together for three years, and both play together for manchester city, however you discover that lucy is moving to lyon and she tries to push you away to not break your heart

warnings: lucy being a dick, brief mention of panic attacks

notes: set in 2017 just before lucy moved to lyon for the 2017/2018 season, you might want to grab some tissues! might make this a series if people are interested🤔 x

─────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────

The new season was right around the corner and you couldn’t wait to put on the Manchester City shirt again, to represent your club alongside your friends and your girlfriend. Sure Lucy’s new contract hadn’t been finalised yet, but you knew it would be, you just knew she would stay a Citizen, why wouldn’t she?

“Narla, come out the way,” you exclaimed with a soft smile as you bent down to get the lasagne you had made out of the oven, however Lucy’s small West-Highland Terrier was in the way.

The dog refused to move, which made you laugh a little. To avoid the food from burning, you gently pick her up and set her in her bed before grabbing the dish out of the cooker with the help of the oven gloves.

Just as you got it out, you heard the front door open and Narla’s little feet padding towards the hall, to where Lucy had just walked in. You grabbed two plates from the cupboard and dished up the dinner, as your girlfriend walked into the kitchen. The normal cheeky grin that she would wear is replaced by a small, almost forced looking, smile.

“I missed you today,” you hummed, walking over to Lucy to give her a small hug.

“I missed you too. Let me just go get changed and I’ll be right back,” she stated simply before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“M’kay, don’t be too long Luce, otherwise your food will be freezing.”

Lucy just nodded before slipping out of the kitchen and seconds later, you heard her walking up the stairs. A soft sigh escaped your lips at her distance and you knew instantly that something was up with her. For now, you decided to ignore it, laying the dining table and deciding to pour you both a glass of red wine, a small luxury you’re allowed when not in season. After everything was all sorted, you settled down in your chair, waiting for Lucy to return.

Forty minutes of waiting had passed and you had just given up. You grabbed your plate and glass of wine and ate your now freezing plate of lasagne in front of the tv: a few tears running down her cheeks simultaneously. You suffered a little with your anxiety, you always had, and with Lucy’s distance you had yourself all worked up. But you manage to calm down a little, reminding yourself that Lucy probably just fell asleep after a long day.

After you’d eaten, you returned to the kitchen, setting your dishes in the dishwasher. Then, you wrapped your girlfriend’s plate, that was still on the dining table, up in tinfoil and then placed it into the fridge: so she can heat it up tomorrow. Once you’d sorted everything out, you dragged yourself upstairs, flicked on the light to the bathroom and then started up the shower.

Usually, when you would take a shower after Lucy, it would be incredibly slippery as she used about five thousand different hair products to get it to be all smooth, shiny and whatnot. However today it wasn’t, therefore meaning you didn’t have to risk breaking your neck and that you could enjoy your shower.

You stayed in there for ages. Just standing under the warm water, letting it cascade down your back, it being incredibly soothing. Following your shower, you flicked it off and then wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel.

Whilst wrapped in your towel, you stood in front of the mirror and did your usual nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and then the various, meticulously thought out steps of your skincare routine. After that was all done, you tied your hair up in a loose, messy bun, not wanting to feel the water dripping down your back any longer.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you practically jump out of your skin, Lucy is just stood there, waiting for you to come out of it. But she was looking at the ground, she seemed awkward: almost as if she didn’t want to be there.

“Er sorry I took so long getting changed,” she mumbled under her breath, being so un-characteristically quiet.

“No it’s okay, don’t apologise Luce. I wrapped your food up and put it in the fridge if you want to reheat it,” you explained, offering the right back a small smile, which she reciprocated - but only at the mention of food.

“Thanks babe, I’ll go do that now. I’m actually quite hungry,” she replied with a small laugh, her eyes still anywhere but on yours.

“Alright, I’ll be down in a sec.”

All you earn is a small nod before she’s walking back downstairs. You are beyond confused at her awkwardness, of her distance but yet again you just shrug it off to her being tired: even though your gut is trying to tell you it’s more than that.

You open up your bedroom door and see Narla snuggled up on the bed, half asleep, which makes you smile to yourself. It’s then when you notice the suitcase that’s packed and sitting in the corner of the room, Lucy’s passport sitting neatly on top.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as the realisation that Lucy was leaving pretty much slapped you in the face. They left a silver, slippery trail down your cheeks, little sniffles left your nose which made Narla cock her head to the side. When she noticed you’re crying, she nudges the back of your legs with a small whine.

You smiled and sat down on the bed, allowing her to sit in your lap. Narla got your full attention, your hands busying themselves with giving her strokes and scratches behind the ear.

“I’ll be alright Narls, just need a minute,” she whispered shakily into her fur, trying to calm yourself down, trying to settle your anxiety.

Ten long minutes passed and even worse Lucy didn’t even notice you’d been that long or she did but she just didn’t care. You’d managed to get into some pyjamas in the time and dry your hair properly. Now, you felt like you could face your girlfriend without being too emotional, without breaking down into tears: you just wanted some answers. You deserved them as her girlfriend. As you wondered down the stairs and into the lounge, with Narla hot on your heels, you could hear sounds coming from the tv.

“You alright love?” Lucy asked as you sat yourself down into one of the armchairs that nobody really uses, instead of of your normal spot beside her.

“Mhm, perfectly fine. Food okay?” you said, voice lacking any emotion as you’d already shut yourself off in preparation of this conversation: not wanting to cry in front of her.

“Oh it’s perfect babe, thank you,” she smiled but her eyebrows furrow as she hears the tone of your voice, devoid of any emotion whatsoever, but she just ignores it.

The smile on her face was fake. You knew it, she knew it and Narla knew it from where she’s now sat in her bed in the corner of the room. The way she was being so calm yet so fake just irked you and you lost it.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you’re leaving?” you asked, not looking at her, focusing on the shitty reality tv show playing out on the screen. You can’t look at her. You probably will burst into tears.

“You went into the bedroom,” she sighed, placing the plate down onto the coffee table as she finally looks at you.

“Of course I went into our bedroom, when the fuck were you going to tell me?”

“Look, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t of found out like this, it’s just, I signed for Lyon earlier and I thought I would try and leave as quickly as possible without you realising until it was too late, so it wouldn’t hurt you as much,”

“Wait, go back, you’ve signed for Lyon? The French team?”

“Yes. You should be happy for me,”

“Jesus Lucy, of course I’m happy for you. This is an incredible opportunity in your career. I just wish you told me that you were considering this move. You were just going to up and leave, which would’ve hurt so much more,” you explain, genuinely so happy for her, she has a better shot at winning the Champions League with Lyon: something she’s always wanted to do, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want her to tell you first.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I never have done. But I’m putting my career first, you knew before we started that my career would always come over you. I still love you.”

What she said was true, but the way she said it, so harshly, creates a small pang in your heart. It’s almost as if Lucy doesn’t care whatsoever about what she’s saying to you, about how much she’s hurting you. It almost seems intentional like she’s trying to push you away.

“Really? Because I’ll be honest, it doesn’t fucking feel like it Luce, I get that your career is everything to you, trust me I do. But it still would’ve been nice for you to consolidate me on this decision,” you exclaimed, your voice raising slightly and your eyes now becoming wet.

“Don’t you dare be like that. God Y/n, you’re so fucking selfish. Thinking everything is about you all of the time. Fucking hell do you know how tiring it is for me? Having to be careful about all of your insecurities and anxieties all of them time? It’s draining and I hate it. I hate how I have to walk around eggshells around you all the time, to scared that if I say the wrong thing you’d have a mental breakdown! Jesus, I thought we’d be fine doing long distance, but I’m bloody rethinking that decision.”

Immediately, Lucy hated herself for what she said to you, every word that slips from her lips was false. She had been a complete and utter dick, she knew that, Narla, who was now glaring at her as if she understood everything single last word that she had just said, knew that. And of course, you knew that. But for Lucy it was the only way. She just had to push you away. Because if she did, if she hurt you, surely you’d be able to get over much quicker. Lucy couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

You had pushed yourself up from the armchair and practically ran into the kitchen, getting away from her for the moment. Tears were in your eyes, hands slightly shaking and your breathing was all over the place. You had to calm down. You had to breathe. A panic attack was something you really didn’t want to be having right now, not after she’d essentially labeled your mental health as a burden to her.

After about thirty seconds of quiet, Lucy comes storming in behind you, watching as you’re leaning on the counter, eyes closed, just trying to breathe. She feels horrible. Like the worst person to ever exist. But this is the only way.

“I’m not being selfish, I just asked why you didn’t tell me. I always would’ve let you go, I would’ve even encouraged you if you were worried about it. I would never ever stop you from having the wonderful career you deserve, Lucy, but doing it all behind my back. That’s what hurts,” you sighed once you felt as if you had your breathing back under control, your voice thick with shed tears.

“Look, I am sorry Y/n, but I felt like you wouldn’t have let me go, that you would hold me back. My god you’re so clingy and it genuinely feels like I can never put a step right with you anymore. That’s why I did it behind your back. It was easier for me and that way I wouldn’t have had to face this screaming match.”

“Oh I’m sorry, Lucia. I’m sorry I’ve made your life so fucking miserable. I had no idea that this was a screaming match, I’m not screaming? All I’ve done is ask you about the suitcase and you got all defensive and up in my face, making me feel like shit.”

You just lost it, freely sobbing in front of her now, which causes Lucy’s heart to break. She didn’t want you to cry. She hates seeing you cry. But she had to go along with this little plan she formulated in her mind, because it would help you to move on quicker from her, as she believed. Lucy also believed that you’d be okay because you would have the support from everyone at City; teammates, coaches, physio, etc. Of course, Lucy being Lucy doesn’t realise how far away from the truth she is. She’s not only hurt you, but she’s destroyed you. It’s going to take a very long time for you to get over her.

“God, remind me why I love you. Such a fucking drama queen. Can’t even handle the truth,” she muttered, and that was that, the holocaust was complete, you were done. You looked up at Lucy, your eyes latching onto hers and it made her want to break down crying too.

“I c..can’t do this anymore,” you managed to squeak, through tears, pushing past her to walk into the lounge to grab your phone as you left it in there earlier. You open up the phone app and scroll until you find the number for Jill Scott, dialling it.

“Hey Jilly-bean, could I stay at yours tonight. Please?” you pleaded into the phone, using your special nickname you have for Jill to butter her up and make her even more inclined to agree.

“Of course you can sweetheart. Want me to pick you up?” Jill replied, hearing the tears in your voice. She knew something was up and she was worried.

“That would be perfect, thank you,”

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten.”

“Y/n? Who was that? Where on earth are you going?” Lucy asked from behind you, growing rapidly concerned by the second. She had gotten what she had wanted. She had pushed you away. That still didn’t mean she wanted you to go, she wanted to spend one final night with you cuddled up in her arms. Deep down she knew that it was extremely selfish based on what she said, but she just didn’t expect for you to leave.

“I don’t want to look at you Lucia, let alone talk to you. I need to go somewhere to get my head straight.” you deadpanned, walking back up to the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

“Oh come on Y/n, open the door. It’s my final night for god sakes,” Lucy exclaimed as she banged on the door, her own tears threatening to fall from her eyes, it then hitting her how much this was going to hurt her. She didn’t really take into consideration her own feelings about losing you when deciding to push you away. She honestly didn’t feel like long distance would be good, that it would work. But now that she’s lost you, she realises that it would’ve been and that she’s lost the best thing she ever had. You were far more important to her than her career, a revelation she discovered far too late.

You just ignore her banging and what she says, you don’t care. You just need to get out quickly. A small suitcase is thrown open on your bed and you’re just tossing key essentials in it for a few nights away. Once all packed, you grab the case and walk out of the room, ignoring Lucy’s sad eyes as you walk downstairs for the fifty time today.

The suitcase wasn’t too heavy, so it was easy to lug down the stairs. You set it in the hall before grabbing your a pair of your trainers from the see rack and quickly put them on, Narla now standing in the hall, wondering what the hell is going on.

When the trainers are finally on, you just decide to wait for Jill outside. You lean down and give Narla a quick stroke, before unlocking the front door and shutting it behind you.

It takes Lucy all of ten seconds to rush outside after you, Narla too, and when she does, Jill pulls up and her heart drops. You immediately rush to throw your case into the boot when she was parked, whilst Jill got out of it, looking between you and Lucy.

When she saw the tears on your cheeks, the ones she’d suspected to be there since you called her, she pulled you into a tight hug, her lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Small tears finally started to slip from Lucy’s eyes at watching you cry and get comforted in the arms of your best friend. Poor Narla just stands by her feet, utterly confused by what’s going on.

“Jill, please don’t let her go. I fucked up. I need to make things right,” Lucy pleaded the older midfielder, a look of desperation on her face as she watches you get into the car.

“I’m sorry Luce. Look, I’ll make sure she’s okay, I’ll look after her,” Jill reassured with a small smile.

“Y/n please, please I’m sorry, I still love you. I always will. I was a dick, please.”

Her pleading breaks your heart even more, as does seeing the tears on her cheeks. Lucy never cries. Never ever.

“Just let her go Lucy.”

Jill then gets back into her car; she straps herself in, places one hand on your knee in a soothing manner and then begins the small drive back to her place.

Lucy’s heart completely shatters as she watches you go, heart torn into millions of different pieces. She’d lost you. And it was all her fault. She was properly sobbing now as she made her way back inside, Narla following after her. The front door was slammed and she then slid down it, crying uncontrollably. Narla whined and yipped as she watched, concerned. Lucy looked up at her little Westie, her face red and blotchy, a little bit of snot dripping from her nose, tears leaking from her eyes and staining her cheeks.

“I fucked up Narla, she’s gone.”

[fiastomatocheek]

THREE MONTHS IN

requested: yes | req: i live for angsty marital issues bc that’s real life!! I feel like maybe the main argument in their relationship would be about him not showing up for lucy or reader. i think it’d definitely cause massive tension between the two of them.

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader.

genre: domestic angst, emotional hurt/comfort, slice-of-life, romance, parenthood.

warnings: postpartum exhaustion, emotional vulnerability, soft confrontation, miscommunication, no yelling or aggression, themes of loneliness and readjusting to new parenthood.

summary: three months in with a three and a half months old baby, lucy, you told yourself you were prepared for the hard parts. you told yourself you could be steady while luke was gone for practice and games when the season begin, that you didn’t need help if you just planned enough. but exhaustion has a way of creeping in, and so does silence.

fia’s note: at first, i was planning to write this with the reader experiencing a bit of postpartum depression not something too heavy, just a subtle version. but after thinking it through, i decided not to include it, since i don’t have personal experience with it, nor do i know someone close who has gone through it. out of respect, i chose to leave it out. and to any young or new mothers out there who may be dealing with postpartum depression: just a little reminder that you’re doing your best and that’s more than enough. please take care of yourself, stay gentle with your heart, and know that you’re doing amazing!! love ya!!

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @silvenyy @bd147ms @voidvannie

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | yap & fic | mondays with fia

Angry? No, not really.

That was what you told yourself, over and over again, as the clock now past 22:30 and Luke still hadn’t walked through the door.

You weren’t mad. You were just tired. Really tired. And a little lonely. And a bit disappointed.

Lucy had gone down for the night at 19:04. You remembered the exact minute because she’d finally fallen asleep without fussing, her tiny fingers curled around yours as you sang her lullaby. It was supposed to be Luke’s song, the one he always sang, off-key but full of love. You’d sung it instead tonight. And last night. And the night before that.

You used to count down the hours until Luke came home. Not out of desperation, just out of hope. Out of the aching need to share the weight of a day. To say, ‘Here. This was heavy. Will you hold it with me for a while?’

And he used to walk in like he’d been counting down too. With tired eyes and a smile and always, always with a kiss to your forehead and a whispered, ‘Did she miss me?’

But the season had started. And lately, that kiss came later and later, if at all.

Luke finally home, shaking off his jacket with the same absent ease he always did. He looked exhausted but still, infuriatingly, beautiful.

“Hey, babe,”

He greeted, leaning down to kiss your lips. You let him. You kissed back. But it wasn’t quite the same.

“How’s Luce?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door.

“She’s asleep. She went down a little over an hour ago.”

He nodded and stretched his arms behind his back with a groan.

“That’s good. She give you a hard time?”

You shrugged. “No more than usual. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

He didn’t notice the way your voice thinned on that last part. Or maybe he did, but he was too distracted to ask.

“Did you eat yet?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I made pasta. There’s some left if you’re hungry.”

“Nah, I grabbed dinner with Jack. We were going over some film at his place.”

And there it was. Again.

“Did you mean to tell me that?” you asked gently.

Luke blinked, eyebrows pinching in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… this is the third time you’ve eaten out without saying anything. I’ve made dinner every night this week, thinking you’d be home. And I get that things come up. I really do. But a text takes ten seconds, Luke.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out this sharp and it wasn’t, well not really. It was just true.

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish.

“I know. I meant to. We got caught up in film and then started eating and I, forgot, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Can we talk?”

Now he looked alarmed. “Yeah, of.. of course. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you said quietly. “I just need to talk. And I want you to listen.”

Luke sat down beside you, close but cautious. Like he was trying to read you before you spoke.

You took a breath, your eyes drifting to the monitor where Lucy’s tiny form shifted in her crib.

“I know what we signed up for. I know what it means to be with someone during the season. I knew it before Luce was born, and I especially knew it after.” You turned your head, looking at him.

“But knowing doesn’t make it easier. It doesn’t make it less lonely when I’m rocking her alone at 3 a.m. or warming up leftovers because I thought I’d be eating with you.”

Luke’s face fell, and he reached for your hand.

“I’m not saying you’re a bad partner, Luke. You’re an amazing dad when you’re here. But I don’t think you realize how much your presence, even just a text helps me get through the day. I’m not asking for much. I just need to feel like I’m not doing this completely alone.”

Luke lacing his fingers through yours.

“I didn’t know it felt like that. I thought as long as I made it home for bedtime, I was doing enough.”

“And some days it is enough,” you admitted.

“But other days it’s not. And I feel guilty even saying that, because I know you’re working hard, too. But I can’t be the steady one all the time. I can’t keep telling myself I’m fine when I’m not.”

Luke leaned forward, resting his forehead against your hand.

“I hate that I made you feel alone,” he said.

“You’re doing so much. More than I can even begin to understand. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been more careful. I think I got so wrapped up in trying to keep everything running that I forgot the most important thing is being here. With you.”

Your throat tightened. “You don’t have to fix everything, Luke. I just want you to check in, to come home and want to be here, not because you have to be, but because you miss us.”

He nodded, “I do miss you,” he said, fingers tightening around yours.

“All the time. But I stopped showing it, and that’s on me. You’re not just Luce’s mom, you’re my wife, my person. And I never want you to feel like I’ve forgotten that.”

“Can we make some small changes?” you asked.

“Like… one night a week that’s just ours. And maybe tomorrow morning, you take her for her first nap so I can sleep in.”

Luke nodded immediately.

“Absolutely. Wednesdays are ours. And tomorrow, I’m on nap duty. All day, if you want.”

You smiled, tired but relieved. “You say that now. Let’s see how you do when she only wants the yellow pacifier, not the pink one.”

“I’m gonna learn,” he promised, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Because I want to. Because I love you. And I love being her dad but I need to be your partner first.”

The tears that had been threatening finally slipped free, but they weren’t from sadness anymore. Just release.

You let him hold you. Let yourself lean into his warmth and his quiet apologies and the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Maybe things wouldn’t always be perfectly balanced. But at least now, you knew you weren’t the only one carrying it.

[yumaandyukitaka]

Here extra info for Mika/Tsukiko  (≡^∇^≡) (au by @quartztwst )

A young elf (And is the oldest one among the others rn) living in a hospital because of a uncured disease. After her nurse gave her the key the nurse she used to owned (like 1 year ago) and told her about magical girls/boys, she love them ever since. And is the one of few who haven't gave their key by Crowley.Often,tell her about the fights.(and yes I did design the nurse) She's a VERY shy girl and almost scared of everything. And somehow reach top 5 in popularity because her cuteness I think...

Name:Tsukiko Yoru

Age:45

Height:147cm

Birthday:14/3

Here's she thinks about the others! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

Will update everytime if I have time (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

Qix Trix by @quartztwst

"Qix Trix? If I remember she's one of original magical girls... Her's spell usually hurts my eyes... "

Fragria by @quartztwst

"She's one of my favorites! She's a sweetheart! Her strawberries are the best! And Grim is so cute!! But he doesn't let me pet him... '

Puppet by @laylakongg

"Her outfit is so cool! Her puppets is so pretty! But she's a bit rude..."

Nova by @karamatsuboy-aj

"He's a bit loud on the music... But! I really like the space theme tho!"

Risu by @oya-oya-okay

"She my favorite! Her tail is so fluffy! And her squirrel form is so cute!! Once she let me pet her! "

Nurse Ni by @thatsadguymochi

"She's like me! And she's like nurse rose! I really like her and we work together, no one gets hurt! "

Kaleid by @hittisbuzzing

"I don't really work with her... But! I heard she is Moarilly grey tho!"

Luna by @waitlexist

"She's one of my favorite! Every time I heal or buff anyone she's always heals me!"

Dini by @juchioris

"She's a bit weird..."

Lady d'Or by @kogane-twst

"Lady do or... Her name is really hard to say... "

Gossamer by @bunniehunn

"She's so sweet! And she looks like a butterfly! "

The pretender by @chaotic-snow

"She's the best! We always play together when we have time! And I always admire her for having a normal childhood..."

Feather Knight by @allykakamatsu

"I don't really interact with her... "

Astro by @cheerleaderman

"Her hair is so pretty!'

Hua by @lafashionlsta

"She so pretty! And her left eye is covered like me! Her music is so good! "

Hypnos by @sunnysidesevenup

"I'm really confuse how she doesn't have a third power... "

Star Steppe by @stxrgazingattheclouds

"I don't know how she likes one of the villans... "

Alimena by @dgiterart

"I feel like we met before, but I don't know when... "

Veridic by @liyuviq

"I always wonder her magnifying glass works like one?...

The cleaner by @rinxleona

"She like a cleaner right?... "

Melody by @blueberriesblueberrie

"I don't like her... She always push me to them! "

Shinii by @quartztwst

"She's kinda weird, always looking at my key... "

Crickett by @ranas-twisted-wonderland

"I don't like the bug aesthetic..."

Luna Luce at by @h0neybane

"Wahh! She's so pretty! She often sleeps between battles... "

Clock by @hanizmiyu

"I once met her at same hospital as me! But she isn't like her magical form... "

Shakti by @twistedtalestory

"I read one of her books when I younger! I still don't want to fight with my fists tho... Don't tell her ok!

Cherry by @fi1nn

"The army of plushies are so cute!! "

Vanity by @doe5dollars

"The explosives always make me scared..."

Prince Scyphozoa by @cephalotyrant

"He always cheat when we play cards! (๑•̀д•́๑)"

Metamorpheus by @lficanthaveloveiwantpower

"I remember one of her spells is for a book! And I really love that about her"

Miss Sakura by @marinahavik

"She's really nice! And a good friend to talk with!'

Candlelight by @soupidee-doo

"I don't really like because of her brutal methods..."

Desdemona Yuurei by @universaln0b0dy

"I really want to hug her... She seemed so sad..."

Divinity by @nivvetsworld

"I'm scared of the angels she summons..."

Chiz by @chizramue

"I don't care if she being me bad luck! I care about her! "

Lily of the valley by @a-z-rie-l

"I really like the tea she makes! "

Bya-chan by @starlee246

"The blot is really sticky tho...'

Clematis by @happilybeingthenerd

" I feel like she's envy of me..."

Trinity by @the-dumber-scaramouche

"Everytime I see her dance I feel like I'm in a ballroom!'

(I am sooo sorry if I tag 10 of y'all again(இдஇ; ) I didn't know the first time didn't save (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू))

Fourchette by @ghostiidasponk

OMG I FORGOT THE STATUS (°Д°；)

"She's really gluttonous girl, everytime I heal her she always want more and I don't know how is my own blood tastes like? 🤔"

Apple by @slumberingrose-fandom

"Her apples are the best! "

Cherlina by @galacticstationsblog

"The two she summons is so cute!! "

Cure Butterfly by @artarmy24

"Everytime a villain almost hurt me she always shield me! "

Toon dude by @heyhellohihowareyou

"I always want to team with him, I'm afraid he'll get hurt..."

Mind Weaver by @nagisas1simp

"I always want to talk with her..."

Rogue of Heart by @nepeta-and-co

"Kitty."

Nightcrawler by @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

"I sometimes give her some of my bandages to cover eyes so she can see will! "

Pyramus and Thisbe by @ieatfriedeggs

"Are they married or something? ಠಿ_ಠ"

Ostekake by @croshelee

[ERROR]

Vamysh by @schweindivine

"I always try to talk with her but she always teleports me away (๑•̀д•́๑)"

Trixxy by @iluvmusicxoxo

"I don't like her... "

Messenger by @dollie-ballerina

"I...sorry I don't know what to say..."

Mental/Emotional Strength:★★☆☆☆(with being in the hospital for too long she is scared of the villains)

Physical Strength:★☆☆☆☆(her disease made her very weak and sometimes cough blood)

Stamina:★★★☆☆ (with being a child (in elf years) she can run pretty decently)

Strategy:★★★☆☆(have to spends few minutes to think of one)

Strengths: with her heals and her buff being her strongest abilities

Weakness:If the villains somehow kidnap Nurse Rose she'll freeze letting them hurt her and her own abilities +her disease

And her theme song (◍•ᴗ•◍) :

(GOD MY FINGERS ╥﹏╥)